Through the Looking Glass
by Impala-Dreamer
Summary: Sam and Dean burst through your apartment door, saving your from a nasty ghost attack. The most amazing thing? Sam and Dean are characters on a TV show... so... what the heck is going on? Reader Insert. Warnings: Cussing, Angst and Fluff, (Other warnings will be on their chapters from now on) In progress! I post as soon as I write! Reviews loved and welcomed!
1. When You Meet The Boys

It was another lonely Friday night. Your roommate was working late and then heading out with her boyfriend. Once again you found yourself alone with nothing to do on a night when other girls your age would be out trolling the bars or going on dates. You didn't mind though, you preferred to be alone. And anyway, you'd gotten a notification earlier that a new chapter had been posted to the fic you'd been reading all week. It's not like you were that excited, but you really were. You'd been waiting all day to see what would happen with Sam and the witch, and it looked like it was about to get hot and smutty.

You poured yourself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch with your laptop.

Tumblr was busy tonight it seemed. You scrolled around a bit, reblogged a few gifs of Jensen singing and then clicked through to open the new chapter you'd been waiting for.

The story was great. Just one of those that pulled you in from the start. Sam and Dean were working a case in South Dakota and Sam got trapped by a witch, Dean was off doing some girl he met at a bar. It was great. Suspense, romance, action: just perfect. You snuggled down into the couch cushions and let yourself get caught up in the descriptions of Dean dragging his full lips over the girl's...

Did the lights just flicker? No... it's just your imagination. Back to Dean. _'Dean's full lips ghosted over Julie's milky white skin, his breath was hot against her. Goose bumps rose in his wake as he'..._

OK, that time the lights definitely flickered. You put your empty wine glass down on the coffee table and reached over to the lamp next to you. You twisted the hot light bulb to make sure it was in correctly; it was fine.

 _'Goosebumps rose in his wake as he trailed down her neck, sucking a bruise just below her collarbone. Julie gasped, carding her fingers through Dean's short hair. He moaned against her and licked the mark'..._

OK, what the hell is going on? The lights flickered a third time and you put your computer on the seat next to you. You stood up and looked around. "Hannah? Are you home?" You called out for your roommate, but you knew you were alone. There was no answer. You took a deep breath and relaxed; it was probably just the jitters of being home alone in a new apartment. You and Hannah had only moved in two weeks ago, and it didn't feel like home yet. It was still too new to you.

You sat back down and reached for your laptop. The screen suddenly went fuzzy, you smacked the side of it, but it did nothing. The lights flickered yet again and you stood up, this time you were scared. Your heart was beating fast, and your breath came out in a puff of fog; the room around you got very cold.

OK, you must be dreaming, you thought. There's no way there's actually a ghost in your apartment.

Just to be on the safe side, you ran into the adjoining kitchenette and grabbed a container of salt from the cupboard. You held it close to your chest with shaking hands. You looked around; there was nothing iron in this place. You didn't have a fireplace... OH! You remembered your grandmother's cast iron skillet that your mother had given you when you moved out. You had never used it, but it was in here somewhere.

You searched through the lower cabinets, pulling out Tupperware and bowls and throwing them aside until you found it. You stood up just in time to see the lights go off and on again. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and you spun around to see an old woman standing in your kitchen. She was small and gray; you could almost see through her. You stared at her, eyes and mouth wide with shock: you were totally standing next to a ghost! This was amazing.

The old woman walked towards you and you just watched her. She didn't look malicious and you were so curious you couldn't really move.

Suddenly the ghostly grandma lifted her hand and you went flying, slamming into the far wall, your head slamming back against the plaster. You slumped down to the floor, salt still in hand though you had dropped the skillet during your flight. The ghost moved towards you in a series of awkward, almost choppy movements. You quickly opened the salt and flicked the container, sending a blizzard of white granules at her. She disappeared instantly and you scampered to your feet, gripping the salt in your hands. You walked back towards the skillet and bent to pick it up. It flew out of your reach and you looked up to see your attacker was back and she was pissed. A curdled scream ripped through your throat as ghostly cold hands gripped your neck. She pushed you back against the wall and up with amazing preternatural strength. You dropped the salt and tore at the fingers crushing your windpipe.

There was a loud crash as your front door was kicked open. Your eyes flew to the doorway and you almost screamed again. Two flannel-clad men appeared rushing in from the dark hallway. One was very tall, with long flowing dark hair and large sad eyes. The other was shorter, but still very tall. Your mind raced, and your heart struggled to keep up with itself. Your eyes passed down from the man's bright green eyes to his plump full lips: it was Dean. And Sam! Sam and Dean Motherfucking Winchester were standing in your apartment!

"Dean!" You gasped, still being choked by the tiny ghost woman.

Dean looked over at Sam with a perfect "What the hell?" face upon hearing his name escape your lips.

Sam ran towards you and showered the ghost with salt. She dropped you and retreated. You fell down, clutching your neck and panting. Sam helped you up, "Hey, you'll be OK. We're here to help." he said, smiling sympathetically at you.

You stared up into his face, narrowing your eyes and making sure you were seeing what you were seeing. "Are you...real?" you squeaked out.

Sam gave a short laugh, "I think so. I'm Sam and this is my..."

"…brother Dean." You interrupted him. "Yeah, I know." Your head was spinning. This had to be a joke. A big, elaborate joke. A big, elaborate, expensive joke masterminded by your friends who teased you constantly about your obsession with Supernatural. This wasn't real. They somehow got Jared and Jensen here to play a joke on you. You looked back and forth between the men and as you did that scenario seemed even less likely than the possibility that Sam and Dean were real.

"We don't have time for this Sammy, let's get her out of here." Dean was halfway out the door, beckoning you to follow him. You stood frozen in the little kitchen, unable to move your feet.

Sam put his hand on your arm gently and said, "I know this is a lot to take in, you just saw a ghost and all, but we really do need you to come with us."

You blinked and looked up at him. Same hazel eyes, long hair, and dimples as on TV; same three layers of clothing. Could this really truly be real? Had you French Mistake'd into their universe? What the hell was going on? You only had one glass of wine, right?

"It'll be OK." Sam said again, pulling slightly on your arm.

"Yeah… yeah… OK." You slowly gained control of your body and reached down to pick up the skillet.

"Just leave that. It's useless anyway. Gotta be pure iron to hurt a spirit." Dean said from the doorway.

You turned your lip up at him and dropped the skillet. "Yeah, well it could still whack you pretty well."

Dean looked at you and then Sam. "I like her. She's feisty." He said with a smirk. "What's your name anyway?"

"Y/N Y/L/N." You replied, grabbing your coat off the back of a nearby chair.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. Now let's roll."

* * *

The Impala was parked haphazardly outside your apartment building, street lamps casting perfect yellow halos on the shiny black hood. The freaking Impala. You squealed a tiny bit when you saw it, your heart leaping into your chest. Sure it was an awesome looking car, but it was also the most important object in pretty much the whole universe! Sam was holding your hand, practically pulling you out of the building towards the car.

Dean wrenched open the driver side door and it groaned loudly. You smiled at the noise and had to take a deep breath to quell your excitement. "Are you OK Y/N?" Sam asked, opening the back door for you.

You stared at the black leather seat and nodded, "I'll be fine. This is all just…weird." You slid into the car and ran your hands across the seat. It felt real; you were definitely sitting in a car.

Sam got in and Dean gunned the engine, peeling away from the curb with a quick turn of the steering wheel. "I know this is a lot to take in," Sam turned around in his seat and spoke to you softly.

"Oh you have no idea. This is insane." You said, eyes running all over the car. You slid fully across the seat and peeked into the driver's side ashtray. Tears appeared behind your eyes when you saw the little green army man stuck inside. It was real: this is The Impala. Maybe you were going insane. That had to be it. _Supernatural_ is just a TV show. Sam and Dean aren't real.

"How you doing back there?" Dean asked, watching you from the rear view mirror. You blinked and looked up at him, tears falling down your cheek. "You crying? Sam she's crying."

"There's an army man… stuck in the ashtray." You managed to say.

Sam smiled, "Yeah, I kinda stuffed it in there when I was a kid."

"I know." You said, looking into his big eyes. "And it helped you fight back Lucifer enough to jump into the cage. I remember." Your breath was coming faster and faster; you were freaking the fuck out.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then back to you. "How do you know all that?" Sam asked.

"What are you, another prophet? I thought we were done with those." Dean questioned, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"I'm not a prophet." You said quickly. "I just… I know you both. I know everything. Oh my god, I can't breathe… I'm gonna pass out. This is too much." You clutched your chest, trying to control your breathing.

"The books? You read all those Chuck books?" asked Dean.

"No…they're not real books. I just… um… I can't breathe." You struggled to get air into your lungs, opening your mouth as wide as you could.

"Just relax." Sam cautioned, he was turned completely around in his seat watching you.

"Yeah, maybe put your head between your legs or something." Dean called.

You did as he suggested but it didn't help. "Can we… please stop the car." You gasped.

Dean turned the wheel and the car slowed to a stop. "It's OK, we're here anyway," he said.

You practically jumped out of the car and ran about fifty feet away from it. When you stopped running you looked around, trying to calm yourself down, and realized you were in a cemetery. "Oh just great." You murmured to yourself. You looked back at the car and saw the boys conversing near the trunk; Dean was handing Sam a shovel and Sam was pointing towards you as he spoke.

You turned away and tried to think. OK, ghost in your kitchen, Winchesters saved you. Now you're at a cemetery clearly about to aid in a Salt and Burn. This is pretty straight forward. But… what the fuck is going on? You must have suffered a nervous breakdown or something and you're sitting quietly in a padded room rocking yourself in a corner. That must be what was going on, because TV shows don't just suddenly come to life and drag you into them. That just doesn't happen. Well, except on _Supernatural_.

Sam cleared his throat behind you and you spun around, smiling awkwardly at him. "Hey, sorry. I… I'll be OK. I think. I might be going crazy, or gone crazy already possibly, but I'll deal with that. Hey, at least I don't have the Devil running around up here, huh?" You rambled on, pointing to your head.

Sam shook his head, "How do you know about all that?" he asked again.

You shrugged. "Well…"

"Hey, are we doing this?" Dean called over from across the cemetery. He stood in front of an old crumbling headstone, shovel swung over his shoulder.

"You coming?" Sam asked. You nodded and followed him over to Dean.

Thirty minutes later and the boys had only dug two feet down. You sat on the wet grass beside the grave and watched them. "This goes so much faster on TV." You said.

"Hmm?" Dean looked up from his work, questioning your statement.

"Oh, I just… I thought this would be faster." You said with a small laugh.

"You wanna jump down here and do it yourself?"

"No, I'm good, thanks."

He snickered and went back to work. Sam stood up and wiped the sweat off his brow with his canvas sleeve. He turned his eyes to you. "So you gonna tell us what's going on?"

"Me?" You asked, pointing to yourself innocently. "You're the professionals. You tell me."

He laughed. "Well you knew about ghosts and salt and iron; you screamed Dean's name when we busted in, and you practically had a panic attack after seeing the car. You know us, we don't know you. The question is, how do you know us?"

Dean stopped digging and looked up at you, also waiting for the explanation.

You took a deep breath, "You're gonna think this is nuts. And I know, you've heard it all. But… OK. You guys aren't real. You're just characters on a TV show. Sam and Dean Winchester are just made up guys who fight ghosts and demons every week on the CW. None of this is real. I know everything about you because I've been obsessively watching the show for years. I've rewatched it a dozen times on Netflix. I read and write fanfiction about you! None of this is real! I must have gone insane and this is my delusion. I mean, I'm not complaining, but what else could it be?... Oh my god… Maybe I'm dead. That's it, I died. And this is my heaven. I knew it! I'm dead!" You leaned back and looked around. Huh, well if this is Heaven it isn't too bad. Adventuring with Sam and Dean for all eternity? It could be worse.

Dean started laughing and Sam just stared at you.

"Honey we are real, sorry to break it to you." Dean said, shaking his head and lifting the shovel again.

"Oh really? Then explain it all to me. If you've got something better, then I'm all ears." You said.

"Dean, maybe she got pulled into our universe like we did when Raphael sent us through the window. Maybe she's from that world, and got sent here." Sam said, nodding in agreement with his theory.

"Yeah but how? And why?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Sam shrugged.

"Great." You said. "So either I'm dead or in another dimension. Either of you have a Tardis I can borrow to get me home?"

"What's a Tardis?" Sam asked.

You rolled your eyes "Are you telling me there's no _Doctor Who_ here? Motherfu-"

"Got something!" Dean yelled, his shovel hit something hard beneath their feet.

You stood up and leaned over the hole, watching as Dean cracked open the old wooden coffin. There were bones inside, and you winced at the sight; you'd never actually seen a dead body before, let alone a mostly decayed one.

The boys climbed out and you picked up the large metal container full of salt. You looked at them with excitement in your eyes. "May I?" You asked. Dean nodded and you proceeded to pour salt over the body while Sam squirted lighter fluid from the other side of the grave.

Dean flicked his lighter and you let out a tiny yelp of glee. He looked at you in concern. "Sorry, just… this is exciting. Please… light her up!" You smiled like an idiot at him.

Dean shook his head "You are so strange," he said and dropped his lighter onto the coffin below.

The grave instantly filled with flames, they jumped up at least three feet above ground level. You stepped back and shielded your face with your arm; you didn't realize it would be so hot. Dean laughed at the sight of you. After a moment your dropped your arm and you all stood around watching the fire burn. It was kind of nice, it reminded you of camping with your grandfather when you were a little kid. Well, minus the graveyard setting and the corpse turning to ash underneath your feet.

No one spoke for a long while and the flames kept on burning. You turned to Dean after a while and stared at him with narrow, investigating eyes. He was absolutely perfect looking; the glow from the fire illuminating his gorgeous profile, his green eyes sparkling in the light. You could see the hard lines around his eyes and mouth from when he laughed, the stubble darkening his jaw, his full juicy lips that…

"What are you staring at me for?" He asked suddenly, pulling you out of your trance.

You jumped and looked away, embarrassed. "I was just wondering how long this is gonna take." You said, pointing to the bonfire. "On the show you're usually back at the car having a beer by now. It's been like an hour."

Dean let out a big laugh at that. "We're burning a body. It takes a while!" He bowed his head and enjoyed himself for a second. "A beer sounds good though."

"Yeah I'll buy you one as soon as we're done with this felony." You joked.

"You know you might be crazy, but I think I like you Y/N," he said with a wink.

That's the moment you realized you were probably in Heaven, because if you could survive a wink from Dean Winchester, you'd have to be dead already.

* * *

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	2. When You Go To The Bunker

So you ended up at a bar after all, and not with one guy but two. Two absolutely gorgeous guys that up until a few hours ago were merely figments of your imagination; fantasy men that you watched on TV almost every day. Characters portrayed by actors, spouting dialogue and backstory written by writers in some office building across the country. But here you were, sitting in a dark, dirty bar with Sam and Dean Winchester, having a beer and enjoying the hell out of it.

Every so often you had to take a moment and remind yourself that you were quite possibly dead and should enjoy this before it ended. You sat at a round table equidistant from both brothers, and you spent most of your time bouncing between them, staring intensely at each in turn.

"So you know everything about us?" Sam asked, snapping your attention back to the conversation. "Like stuff that wasn't in the Edlund Books?"

"Well, yeah," you took a sip of your beer and continued. "Like I said, those books are only on the show… I mean, in 'this world' or whatever the case is. I would totally read them if they were real, but that's not the point." You knew you were in danger of rambling again but you couldn't stop yourself. "I wouldn't say I know everything about you…well, maybe everything. I mean, I'm not obsessed with Supernatural… OK, maybe I am. It's a small problem."

Dean put his beer down and eyed you suspiciously. "Huh, so when's my birthday then?"

You smiled. "January 24, 1979." You pointed at the other brother. "Sam's is May 2, 1983. Which is also the day he died in 2007 in South Dakota, and then the day you went to Hell a year later. Man Sam, that's a shitty track record for a birthday you got there. What else? November 2, 1983 was the day your mother… damn. Sorry." You took a deep breath and put your hands in your lap to stop the flailing.

"You OK? You seem… hyper." Dean commented.

"I believe it's called 'fangirling' Dean." Sam suggested.

"Uh, yeah. Well, I don't really care for that term, but yeah, sorry. This is just really exciting. And weird." You confessed, taking another long drink from your beer.

"Oh…fangirl. Like that Becky chick?" Dean looked at you, eyes full of worry suddenly.

"No, no! I'm not like Becky, I promise. Besides I'm a Dean!Girl." You instantly regretted the words as soon as they left your lips. Dean raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips at you. You felt a wave of embarrassment hit you and your cheeks grew bright red. "I'm gonna shut up now." You said shyly.

"Dean!Girl? What's that mean, like you have a thing for me?" Dean smirked, joking with you.

You tried to look away but you were pulled instantly into his emerald eyes. You sighed and opened your mouth, but nothing came out. "I…um…"

Sam noticed your embarrassment and jumped in to save you. "So Y/N, do you remember anything that may have happened before tonight that would explain this? I mean, anything unusual? Did anything happen?"

Thank God for Sam. You pulled your gaze away from Dean who smiled and looked away towards the bar. "No." You answered Sam honestly. "I don't remember anything weird before the Granny Ghost showed up. Not a thing. Normal day at work, came home, had a glass of wine, read some fics, and then the lights started flickering." You shrugged. "No angels pushing me through glass windows into alternate dimensions, and yet… here I am."

"Here you are." Dean echoed. You looked back to him and he licked his lips unconsciously. Your heart jumped in your chest and you fell back into staring at him; those damn lips!

"Well we should probably get you back home. Or, at least to your home…here." Sam said.

You nodded, pulling your eyes away from Dean for the thousandth time. You picked up your beer and downed the rest in a few swallows. Drinks with the Winchesters had come to an end, and you'd probably wake up tomorrow back in the real world, this having been just the weirdest dream of your life.

* * *

You saw the glow of the fire from three blocks away; the whole time you kept thinking, that can't be my building. But as you drove up, you could see that clearly it was your building. In fact, the flames leapt from your third floor windows. For the second time that night you struggled to catch your breath and yelled for Dean to pull the car over.

You couldn't get close; there were firetrucks and ambulances and bystanders everywhere. You ran through the crowd and up to the yellow police tape, screaming frantically for your roommate Hannah. She was nowhere to be found. You pulled out your phone and dialed her number, it went right to her voicemail. You spun around trying to look for her; tears streaming down your face, your voice stuck in your throat. EMTs emerged from the building entrance, wheeling a gurney covered in a white blanket. You tried to push forward through the police barrier to see better; was that Hannah? You had to know. Sam appeared next to you and grabbed your arms, forcing you to stand still. He looked up at the blazing fire coming from your apartment and then back to you. He leaned down so he was eye level with you. He was talking to you, calling your name, trying to get you to calm down, but you couldn't hear him. There was too much noise around and your heart pounded loudly in your ears.

"Y/N! Calm down. It'll be OK." You could see his lips moving, but nothing was getting through. Sam gave up and pulled you to him, wrapping his long arms around your body, hugging you tightly. You collapsed against him, your panic and confusion taking over completely. He led you carefully through the crowd back to the Impala. Your back hit the cold black metal and you sank down to the ground against it. You brought your knees up and hid your face in them, tears soaking into your jeans.

Someone sat down next to you and threw an arm around your shoulder. You peeked through your tears and saw Dean, he rubbed your arm as he stared off at the inferno.

"What am I gonna do?" You said with a shaky voice. "And Hannah… Hannah would be home by now, she's gotta be in there. She's…I have to find her."

"Shh…" Dean pulled you closer to him so that your head fell against his shoulder. "Hannah's gone Y/N. I'm sorry." You gave up holding back the tears and let them come out, you sobbed hysterically into Dean's neck, your hands coming up to grab his shirt. He held you tighter, wrapping both arms around you. He rocked you on the ground as you cried, occasionally whispering to you that you were safe, that he'd protect you, that he'd figure this all out.

* * *

It had started raining at some point. You watched the raindrops strike the window and slide down and across the glass as the Impala flew down the highway. You were relatively calm now; the crying had subsided and left you feeling exhausted and numb. What the fuck was going on? First a ghost, then Winchesters, now your home is burned down and your best friend is dead. Maybe being on Supernatural was a bad thing; maybe you weren't the adventurous leading lady you'd always hoped you'd be. Right now, this show sucked.

"How we doin' back there Y/N?" Dean's voice called you out of your thoughts again and you met his eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Just great Dean, thanks."

Sam turned around in his seat trying to find you, but you were directly behind him pressed against the door and he couldn't turn that way. "We will figure this out. I promise," he said.

You reached forward and patted his shoulder so he knew you heard him. "Thanks Sam." You sighed and went back to the raindrops. You didn't even know how long you'd been in the car, or where you were going. "Um… by the way, where are we going?"

"We're taking you back to Kansas with us." Sam answered.

You smirked, "Hey I didn't even click my heels three times." You went back to looking out the window and then suddenly Sam's words registered fully in your sleepy brain. You shot forward, moving to the left so you could stick your head between the brothers. "Wait, Kansas? Are we going to the bunker?" Your eyes were wide with excitement, you looked back and forth between Sam and Dean.

Dean laughed, "Yeah. Is that OK?"

"OK? Are you shitting me? We're going to the Bunker? That's the most OK thing ever. Wow. Holy shit dude." The boys laughed at your giddiness and you sat back against the black leather seat, smiling like a crazy person. You sighed and rubbed your hand across your forehead; this night was a damn rollercoaster of emotions.

* * *

To say it was exactly as you'd pictured would be a clique, but it would also be true. Sure you'd seen it on TV, but the screens are only so big and they only show some of the rooms. You wanted to see everything. Tears of joy welled up inside you as Sam walked you through the library towards the bedrooms. You lingered near a bookshelf, letting your fingers run over the spine of a nearby book. It was real. You were in the Men of Letters Bunker. It smelled like dust and old paper and… beer. You looked over your shoulder and saw a few empty beer bottles sitting on the table behind you. You smiled at them and followed Sam out of the room.

"Can I see the dungeon? Where you tied up Demon Dean and cured him?" You were practically nipping at Sam's heels, jumping with eagerness to see everything. "Did you ever fix the door he broke with the ax? How crazy was that? An ax! Oh my Chuck- what about the computer room where you knocked over the bottle letting the Wicked Witch out? You guys really make a mess, who cleans it all up? You do, don't you? I can't imagine Dean using a mop. Oh my god, that's funny." Sam stopped dead in his tracks and turned to you.

"Could you please stop talking for five seconds Y/N!"

You closed your mouth and pouted, shoving your hands down at your sides. "Sorry."

Sam smiled, "No, I'm sorry. It's OK. I know this is weird and exciting for you. It's really strange for us too." He said and continued leading you down the large hallway. You stayed quiet, eyes running over every detail of the place, your mind racing with questions. You passed door number 11 and fought back a squeal of excitement as you peeked in and beheld Dean's bedroom. The memory foam! It remembers him!

Sam stopped two doors away from Dean's room. "Here we are," he said as he opened the door and stepped back to let you in. "It's not much, but it's a bed. You can stay here until we figure out…"

"What to do with me?" You smiled up at him. "Thanks Sam." You went up on your tiptoes and gave him a quick hug.

"Just yell if you need anything." He smiled and disappeared back into the hall.

The room was cold; you sat on the plain bed against a brick wall and looked around. There was an empty desk with a lamp, a wall hung sink by the door and the bed on which you were perched. It wasn't exactly cozy, but it was what you had right now. That and the clothes you were wearing when you left your apartment. This was just fantastic.

Dean knocked lightly on the open door and you stood up, quickly spinning around to face him. He smiled at you and held out a pile of dark folded fabric. "I uh… it's some clothes, they'll be too big on you, but you can sleep in them. And an extra blanket. It's kinda chilly in here." He said. You stepped forward and took the bundle from him.

"Thanks Dean." You looked down and saw a beat up looking Led Zeppelin t-shirt on the top of the stack. You laughed a little to yourself.

"Something funny?" He asked, watching you with curious green eyes.

"Oh, just everything." You sighed.

"If you need anything I'm two doors down; just scream." He smiled and turned to leave, pulling your door closed behind him.

You put the clothes down on the end of the bed and collapsed against the flat pillow.

* * *

You didn't think you'd slept at all, but when you looked at your phone, the clock said 7 a.m. You stretched and looked around you; you were still in the plain monk-like bedroom you'd passed out in. You were still in the Bunker. Which meant Sam and Dean were still walking around somewhere beyond your door. Part of you had expected to wake up back in your bed at home with a hangover, letting the explanation for everything being you were wasted and had left Netflix on.

You pulled your jeans back on but kept Dean's t-shirt on. You pulled the collar up and took a deep breath, smelling him on it; that warm, musky leather and whiskey scent that you'd always imagined.

The hallway was like a labyrinth and you navigated it slowly, trying to remember which way you'd come last night, but without Sam as your guide you quickly became lost. After passing door 16 for the third time you stopped and pressed your back against the wall. You let out a little yelp of frustration; you should be better than this! Get it together Y/N!

"Y/N?" Sam's voice bounced off the cavernous ceilings and you sighed with relief.

"Sam, I'm lost!" you called out to him.

You heard his footsteps brining him towards you and he turned the corner to see you cringing against the wall in shame.

He laughed at you gently, "It's OK. It's a big place. You'll get used to it." He held out his hand and you took it, following him out of the maze. "Dean made breakfast, you hungry?"

"Starving."

Dean had certainly made breakfast. The small table in the kitchen was covered in bacon and eggs and toast and pancakes and fruit. You laughed as you walked in; Dean was peeling a waffle out of the waffle iron and he looked over at Sam. "Hey, I finally figured out how to use the damn thing!" He said triumphantly.

"You guys always have a king's feast for breakfast?" You asked, looking over the abundant meal.

"No, but I didn't know what you'd like so I made a little of everything. Waffle?" Dean smiled and held up the square treat.

"Sure, thanks." You laughed and took a seat.

"Coffee?" Sam asked, holding a mug.

"Yes! Please." You took the white ceramic mug from him and held it in your hands, blowing gently on the hot liquid before taking a sip. "This is creepy. You guys don't have to wait on me you know."

Dean sat down across from you and started filling his plate with eggs. "Well don't get used to it. You only get the V.I.P. treatment once," he winked.

The three of you ate, a lot, but not enough to clear the table. Sam threw bits of the leftovers into the fridge as you dried dishes while Dean washed them. The regular-ness of the scene was so strange; these were things you didn't see on the show but you knew they'd have to do. Someone had to cook so they could eat; someone had to clean up so didn't live in filth. Someone had to do their laundry, and go food shopping and clean the bathrooms and wax the floors and…

Dean waved his hand in front of your face. "Hello?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking about the other side of your lives."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

You shrugged and put the plate you were drying down onto the stack of others. "I mean, we only ever see you killing monsters or having dramatic fight scenes, car chases, rescue missions, things like that. But, you have to live; you're both human, you need to eat and sleep and take showers and things like that."

Dean laughed and nodded. "I guess this isn't the most entertaining thing we could be doing," he said, handing you the next wet plate. You took it and your fingers brushed against his; you both looked up at the touch and you smiled shyly as his eyes met yours.

Sam broke the moment by speaking up from across the room. "So Y/N, maybe today you and I could go through some books and try to figure out what happened to bring you here."

You turned from Dean and smiled broadly at Sam. "You asking me to do research with you?"

"Uh, yeah."

A tiny squeal left your lips, "Awesome!"

"Don't tell me you're a nerd too." Dean said.

"I prefer the term 'literary enthusiast'," you joked earning a laugh from Sam and a half smile from Dean.

* * *

The library felt like home to you. It was pleasantly lit with soft yellow lights; the smell of the ancient books beckoned you to the shelves. You sat in a comfy armchair in a corner, nose deep in a large leather bound text, searching for any mention of your situation. You and Sam were both coming up short.

"What if I'm stuck here forever?" You asked, lifting your eyes to the high art deco ceiling.

Sam put his book down and looked over at you, "It wouldn't be too bad would it? You can stay here as long as you want."

"It would be awesome, don't get me wrong, but…the girls on this show don't exactly… live very long." You said with a wince.

Sam looked shocked, he shook his head. "That's not true…"

"That's totally true Sammy. It's sad but true." Dean appeared in the archway carrying three beers which he distributed as he walked in. He sat on the table between you and Sam. "Any luck?"

"Nothing," you sighed and closed the book in your lap.

Dean watched you as you took a long sip of your beer. "Well then I guess you're stuck with us," he said, drinking from his own. You both locked eyes again and you felt your heart expand; your face flushed and grew warm.

"What about Cas?" Sam spoke up.

"Oooh yeah! Castiel!" You perked up, ripping your eyes away from Dean. "When do I get to meet Castiel? Maybe he can figure out what's going on."

"I already called, he's not answering," Dean said going back to his beer.

"Call him again, maybe he can shed some light on Y/N's situation" said Sam, leaning back in his chair.

"I said he's not answering! The dude's busy!" Dean yelled, getting heated completely out of nowhere.

"Wow, are you guys fighting again?" You asked innocently.

Dean stammered, "What? No. We're not… what?"

You and Sam gave each other a knowing look.

"Wait you're not one of those crazies who think Cas and I are…" Dean's words fell away before he could say what he meant but you understood.

"Dean are you asking if I ship Destiel?" You said with a laugh.

He nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Wow. Um…" Your face got hot again. "I…well… yeah. I do."

"I'm not gay!" Dean yelled, throwing his hands up in the air.

"No one said you were Dean." Sam said, trying to hide his amusement.

You stood up and walked carefully over to him. "We know. We know. It's just that you and Castiel have… a…"

"Profound bond." Sam offered.

"Yes. Yes, a very profound bond and sometimes it can seem like you are…" you shrugged; "about to kiss." You winced and looked up, waiting for his reaction.

Dean stared at you, you could see the hurt and confusion in his face and your smile instantly fell away. Maybe you were wrong about him and Cas. You knew it wasn't canon, but how could millions of Destiel shippers be wrong?

"I'm sorry Dean. It's just kind of a running joke I guess." You said, trying to sooth the obvious wound you'd given him. "I know you're not gay. It's OK." He wouldn't look at you. "I mean, I ship you and Cas, but I'm still a Dean!Girl, remember? I'd still… ya know… with you. If you wanted and…stuff." God, this was getting worse the longer you kept talking. You bit your lip and waited for a glimmer of acknowledgement from the offended hunter. He huffed and walked away without looking back at your or Sam.

"Why can't I stop talking!" You yelled at yourself after Dean was out of the room.

Sam chuckled, "It does seem to be your biggest problem Y/N," he said, standing up to put a book back on the shelf.

"Yeah, among other things. Shit! You are such an idiot Y/N." You chastised yourself again. "You get thrown head first into your biggest fantasy and here you are telling Dean Winchester you think he's gay for Cas. Hello!" You smacked yourself in the forehead.

Sam shook his head and laughed again. "Hey, can I ask… why aren't you a… I don't know… Sam!Girl?" He said, casting his hazel eyes over your face.

You flushed again. "I'm… Sam!Curious, I guess. I just always felt you and I would be best friends and I wouldn't want to cross that line with you." You confessed and he looked away, maybe a little hurt. "But hey, dude, you're super-hot so if you wanted too and I was… I mean… shut up Y/N! Stop talking! Holy Chuck, I am the worst person ever." You and Sam started laughing again.

"It's OK. I understand." Sam said, slapping a large hand on your shoulder.

"I don't know why he got so mad. It's not like I'm the first person to ever bring up his relationship, or lack thereof, with Castiel." You frowned, looking towards the door Dean had stormed out of.

"It's probably because he likes you." Sam said, turning away back to the bookshelf.

You froze. "He what now?"

"Likes you. Dean likes you." He repeated.

"Like, a little sister likes me, right?" Your voice was climbing in octaves, totally shocked by what Sam was saying.

"No, like 'a profound bond' likes you."

You laughed and looked away. "No. That's not… come on. That's just… no way."

"Hey, you know everything about my brother? So do I: he likes you." Sam gave you his classic "trust me" face and pulled a book from it's spot, carrying it back to the table with him.

You stood with your hands on your hips staring at nothing in particular. Very slowly the idea started to make its way into the part of your brain that could process such things and a large smile spread across your face. Dean Winchester likes you. How fucking amazing is that?

* * *

Later that day you found Dean in the garage fiddling with Baby. "Hey," you called to him as you walked through the large doors.

He looked up and nodded at you. He seemed mad still about the whole Destiel discussion. "I made lunch, if you're hungry. Egg salad sandwiches, yum." You smiled and waited for him to respond. He leaned over the engine and wiped at something with a rag. "I'm sorry about before Dean. I sometimes can't stop the words from coming out of my mouth and I feel like such an asshole later. And now is that time where I feel like an asshole so I go to apologize but I just keep talking and talking and making it worst until the other person says something. So unless you like hearing me ramble on and on like this maybe you should just say something… please?" You gave him a cheesy smile as he stood up and looked at you.

"Cas is just my friend. He's my best friend." He said firmly.

You nodded and waved one hand at him. "I hear you loud and clear. I totally understand."

"Why would people want to see that anyway?" He asked sincerely.

You thought for a moment. "I don't know how to explain it really. I think we just want you to be happy and you always seem the happiest when Cas is around."

Dean seemed to think about that honestly for a moment. He looked down at his hands, rolling the greasy rag around between his fingers. He let out a small breath when he spoke again, "That's kind of nice then I guess; people I don't know wanting me to be happy." He smiled softly.

"Oh we do Dean. You deserve it. After everything you've been through, everything you've done. You deserve to be happy, no matter who or where that happy comes from." You touched his hand gently and smiled as he looked up at you finally. His face had softened and you could tell he wasn't angry with you anymore. You sighed in relief and leaned up to kiss his cheek gently. "Come have some lunch." He turned his face and looked down into your eyes again; the emerald irises capturing all your attention. You stopped breathing for a moment; you were so close to him, so close you could feel the heat coming off of his skin. You could lose yourself here if he asked; you'd do anything he wanted. All he had to do was say the words.

"Y/N…" He whispered, his voice was low and husky.

"Yes Dean?" You blinked slowly and pursed your lips slightly up at him.

"What kind of sandwiches did you say you made?"

You laughed and backed away, shaking your head at your flirtatious inference. "Egg salad."

"Awesome, let's go eat."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry this is so long. I am falling into this story so badly and I'm just going with it. Hope you enjoy!**


	3. When You Drive The Impala

The flames were high, leaping up from the floor, surrounding your bed. There was nowhere to go, you stood on your bed, arms wrapped around yourself. You took a deep breath and did the only thing you could think of to do, you leapt off the bed into the flames and ran for your open window. A three story jump out of a window was nothing to laugh at, and you knew the fall could possibly kill you, but if you stayed you'd be barbequed. You took one last look back at your room, seeing Hannah's lifeless body slumped down on the floor by your door and jumped. The cool night air hit your face and for a moment you thought you'd be OK; it felt like flying, your body floated for a moment before gravity caught you and you felt it pull you face first towards the waiting concrete below.

Screaming woke you up. You sat straight up in your bed and realized the yells were coming from your own mouth. The door burst open and Dean was there, gun in hand, his hair and clothes rumpled from sleep. He ran to you and looked around the room for signs of danger.

"Y/N! Are you OK? What happened?" He yelled into the now quiet room.

You swung your legs over the bed and put your hands on your thighs, panting, trying to calm down and catch your breath. "I'm sorry Dean, I… I had a nightmare."

Dean sighed deeply and put his gun down on the empty desk. He ran his hands down over his face and nodded at you. "Hey, it's OK. We've all been there." He looked down at you sympathetically. "You wanna talk about it?" He asked.

You shook your head, still looking down at the floor. Your breath was returning to normal, your body coming down from the adrenaline high. "No, thanks. I'm OK."

Dean turned to leave and you reached up and grabbed his hand. You looked up into his green eyes and smiled shyly. "Could you…stay with me for a bit? Please?" You felt so embarrassed to ask, but you knew if you went back to sleep alone you'd suffer more of the same.

"Of course Sweetheart. Scoot over." Dean crawled into the bed, he lay down and opened his arms to you. You smiled and settled down next to him, putting your head on his shoulder. You kept your arms down at your sides, not knowing where to put them; not wanting to touch him if he didn't want you too. You lay stiff and awkward, your head on his hard shoulder.

"You gotta relax Y/N." He laughed above you. He pulled you closer with one hand, wrapping it around you and rubbing your arm. With his other hand Dean lifted your arm and pulled it across his chest. "Snuggle up kid." He joked.

You gave a tiny laugh and let yourself relax against him. He was big and warm and you felt safe in his arms. "Thanks Dean." You whispered.

"Anytime," he replied, closing his eyes and taking a deep relaxing breath.

You lay still for a moment, trying to will yourself back to sleep, but your mind was racing. You still had no idea what was going on, why you were suddenly inside a TV show; your apartment and best friend just exploded with no explanation, and now you were cuddled in the Bunker with Dean Winchester. While you were still concerned with the implications of interdimensional travel, you had to admit: this was one hell of an afterlife, if in fact that were the case.

"Dean?" You spoke softly in case he had fallen asleep.

"Yeah Y/N?"

"Why are you guys being so nice to me? You don't even know me, I'm just some random victim you met on a case. You didn't have to bring me back here and let me stay with you." You looked up at him sleepily, waiting for an answer you weren't sure you really wanted.

Dean peeked down at you through half closed eyes, "I don't know, I guess I must like you. And you're not a random victim, there's gotta be a reason we ran into you." He said with a small shrug. "Now go to sleep, I need my four hours." He closed his eyes and smiled, adjusting his head against the pillow.

* * *

Every second since you'd met the Winchesters there had been a tiny voice in the back of your head whispering to you. "This can't be real," it said. "Don't blink too hard or this will all disappear."

You woke up cocooned in blankets with Dean's arm still laying heavily around you. You let out a deep breath against him when you realized you hadn't been dreaming and in fact Dean was in bed with you. You tried not to wake him but he stirred and looked over at you, his face just inches from yours.

"Mornin'," he said, his voice was low and raspy, still full of sleep.

"Hi." You smiled into the pillow: this was just too much. How could someone be so handsome first thing in the morning? You dreaded to think about what you looked like; hair all messy, eyes smeared with makeup. You sat up and stretched your arms out in front of you and tried to tame your wild locks with the elastic around your wrist. You pulled it into a messy bun and looked over your shoulder at the waking hunter.

"So… what's on the calendar for today?" You asked

Dean pushed himself up against the headboard and scratched at the scruff on his jaw. "I was thinking maybe we go get some breakfast and then see what happens."

"A lot of your days revolve around food don't they?" You chuckled.

"Hey, a man's gotta eat." He said with a smirk. "I'm gonna take you out for the best pancakes you've ever had in your life." He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. "You like chocolate chip pancakes?" He asked as he stood and stretched.

"No, too sweet for me."

Dean snapped his head around and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. He laughed, "Well you're gonna love these."

"Wanna bet?" You teased and got up on the other side of the bed. You fanned out the blanket and smoothed it down across the bed.

"Y/N, you should never bet me, I always win." He winked.

You laughed and fluffed the pillow, laying it in the center of the bed. "I'm sure you do Dean."

* * *

The pancakes were awesome, even with the chocolate chips in them. The coffee was strong and bitter and woke you up perfectly. Dean took you to a little diner in town, there were maybe 7 tables in the whole place and the counter glowed with pink and green neon strip lights.

You and Dean shared a booth near the back of the restaurant, you sat with your back to the door so Dean could have the seat with the view of the entire place. You ate greedily and rambled on about yourself, Dean prompting you to continue with basic questions. Where did you grow up? What's your family like? What do you do for fun? You talked on and on about yourself. It was a little embarrassing but as he reminded you, you knew everything about him, and he knew nothing about you. It felt a little like a date but you really didn't mind. He was easy to talk to and you wanted him to know everything.

A short stack and three cups of coffee later you and Dean made your way through the gravel parking lot to the car. Dean stopped in front of the Impala and fiddled with the keys. "You uh…wanna drive?" He asked, holding out the keys to you.

You looked at him like he was crazy. "Yeah, right." You laughed and kept walking towards the passenger side door.

"You sure?" He asked again, a huge grin on his freckled face.

"Are you kidding me? You're gonna let me drive your Baby?" The glee was evident in your voice as you stared at Dean in disbelief.

"If you want too, sure." He shook the keys in your face and they glinted in the morning sunlight.

You grabbed them and ran like a fool to the driver's side.

"Holy shit I'ma drive the Impala!" You squealed as your pulled open the door, the hinges grinding loudly. You smiled broadly at the sound and jumped in, sinking down into the bench seat behind the wheel. You ran your fingers gently over the steering wheel; how many miles had this car driven? How many times had it crisscrossed the country? How many fights and monsters had it seen? How many times had Dean rebuilt her, slept in her, made love in the ba…

"Y/N? I think we lost you again." Dean's voice pulled you back. You turned and smiled a big stupid smile that you hated yourself for instantly. "You do know how to drive, don't you? I probably should have asked that first."

"I do." You swallowed hard and put the keys in the ignition. The engine purred and you felt it rumble beneath you. "Ohhh baby wow," you cooed, listening to the growling car. You looked over at Dean and bit your lip, "That's so hot."

Dean licked his lips and looked away from you quickly. "You gonna drive or do you wanna be alone for a minute?"

"Oh just let me enjoy this for a second." You ran your hands down around the wheel once more and shifted into gear. Your heart was beating so fast, the excitement coursing through your veins: you were driving the freakin' Impala!

You checked your mirrors, adjusting the rearview slightly to the left, and lifted your foot off the break. "Oh fuck this is awesome!" You pressed down a little too hard on the gas and the car flew backwards, completely out of your control. You shrieked and grab the wheel, trying to steer out of the way of the trash cans behind you, but you hit them, full on, full speed. You finally gained control of yourself and slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. "Oh shit! Oh shit, I am so so sorry Dean. Oh my god. I can't believe I did that. I wasn't even looking. I thought it was in Drive, I'm so sorry. Oh fuck. Oh my god." You were flapping your hands in front of your face, completely losing your shit. Dean Winchester gave you the keys to his Baby and you crash it within mere seconds. "Shit, Shit! Dean I'm so sorry!" You kept babbling your apologizes and couldn't hear or focus on a thing Dean was saying.

Dean threw the stick into Park and grabbed your flailing hands. He shouted your name until you shut your mouth and looked at him with wide sorrowful eyes that were about to start leaking again. "I'm so sorry Dean…I…"

"I know," he said, holding your hands tightly in his. "It's OK. Just some trash cans. Everyone will live." He smiled at you, his beautiful eyes shimmered in the early morning light.

"But I crashed Baby." You pouted, trying desperately not to start crying again.

"She'll be fine." He leaned forward, trying to get you to calm down.

You were shaking, your breath coming out in quick huffs. "I can't believe I did that. I'm such an assho…" Your words disappeared as Dean's lips crashed into yours. He pressed against your mouth with sweet pressure; his big hands still holding yours. You closed your eyes and stayed perfectly still, responding only with your lips, afraid if you moved it would be over, or would have never have happened at all.

Dean finally released you and sat back. He laughed at the look of shock on your face. "I guess I figured out how to shut you up." He chuckled.

"Holy fuck," you said; eyes still shut and lips pulsing with the memory of his kiss.

"You curse way too much; you know that Y/N?"

You opened your eyes and glared at him, "And you don't curse enough." You huffed and stuck your nose up in the air.

"Well get the fuck out of my seat," he said with a laugh. "You're never fucking driving my Baby again."

"Fair enough."

* * *

OK, Salt and Burn: check. Dead roommate and house fire: check. Your own room in the Bunker, also check. Did research with Sam, spent the night in bed with Dean, drove the Impala, and kissed Dean Winchester; check, check, check and check. What else could you possibly do with your time? It was like you were living your Supernatural Bucket List, which was both amazing and totally terrifying, because, why were you living it? Whenever your mouth was quiet your brain took over with a thousand and one questions; the biggest one being: what the hell is going on?

Dean took the wheel from you and drove back to the Bunker taking a longer, more scenic route that you had taken to get to breakfast. The windows were down and the wind whipped through your hair, blowing it all around you. You stuck your hand outside and rode the wave of the wind. Your voice carried over to Dean as you laughed, your joy emanating from you and infecting him. He reached down and grasped your hand, holding it loosely in case you wanted to pull away; you didn't and threaded your fingers through his.

You watched the trees fly past on the side of the road, Dean was doing about 80; the road was clear ahead of you and the sun was shining, the day was perfect. Up ahead you saw signs for a farm stand. You pointed at it and asked Dean to pull over.

"Are you serious?" He asked, following your finger with his eyes.

"Yes! Pull over please." You pouted and waited for him to comply.

"I don't eat farm food." He stated plainly.

You laughed, "Then we'll get something for Sam. Come on…"

It was a little fruit stand set in front of a private orchard. A tiny old woman sat behind the table; she smiled toothlessly at you as you climbed out of the car and waited for Dean to join you. The stand was full of baskets containing apples in every color you could imagine. You picked up a shiny red one and smelled it. "Oooh it smells so good." You said, holding it out to Dean.

He scrunched up his nose and shook his head, "Yeah, I don't eat apples, thanks."

"You will tonight." You said with a sly smile.

"Oh really?"

"Yup." You picked up a basket and handed it to the old woman who dumped them into a bag. "You're gonna eat them and love them," you said matter-of-factly.

"I bet you I won't."

"Oh Dean, this is one bet you are gonna lose." You winked and handed over some bills in exchange for the apples.

"Really? And what are the terms of this bet Y/N? Better be good for me to eat an apple."

You spun around with your bounty of delicious apples and floated back to the car, swinging your hips suggestively for Dean's amusement. "Well…" You swung the bag over your shoulder and turned around to face him, leaning against the car. "If you win, and truly don't love the apples you get to…sleep in my bed again tonight." You smiled and batted your eyelashes at him. He stepped up close to you and put his hands on the car, caging you against it.

"And if you win?" he asked, leaning down so close that you could feel the words leave his plump lips.

"If I win…" Your breath was stuck in your throat; your face flushed and you could not for the life of you think of what your prize could be. Instead you reached up with your free hand and touched the back of his neck, pulling him down to you and gently kissing his full lips. You held the kiss for a long moment, sucking his bottom lip through yours before you pulled back and looked up into his eyes.

"I think I'll let you win this one either way." He said breathlessly.

You laughed and pecked his lips quickly. "I look forward to it."

Seeing Dean Winchester swoon was something you'd seen only very rarely on TV and the fact that you were seeing it now, and you were the one making him do it, sent a shiver down your spine and a bolt of pleasure through you. Oh you were going to enjoy this bet, no matter what the outcome.

* * *

You found your way around the kitchen easily, it wasn't that big but it was well stocked with equipment; the Men of Letters had to eat after all and there wasn't much you could need that they didn't have.

You kicked Sam and Dean out and insisted they leave you alone for a few hours while you prepared dinner and your surprise for Dean. He had trouble staying away and snuck in twice to peek at your work. You shooed him away with floured hands and went back to singing to yourself while you cooked.

At 6 o'clock on the nose you stuck your head out of the kitchen and whistled loudly. "Come and get it boys!" your voice echoed through the cavernous hallways.

Sam and Dean stood in the doorway and beheld a perfectly laid out table with a beautifully roasted bird in the center. You smiled and waved your arms over the food like Vanna White.

"This looks amazing Y/N, thank you." Sam said.

"Yeah. Awesome." Dean chimed in.

They sat and began devouring the food you'd cooked. You sat back in your seat picking gently at your chicken and potatoes, eating slowly but mostly watching the boys eat. This was another thing you'd always wanted to do: feed them. Watching them eat nothing but junk and fast food for eleven seasons tugged at your heart and you wanted them to enjoy a home cooked meal for once.

Dean put down his fork and sat back in his seat, rubbing his stomach with one hand. "Well I guess I win the bet, I don't see any apples here." He said with a smirk.

Sam looked at him questioningly, "What bet?"

"Oh nothing," you said, standing up to clear some plates off the table. "I bet your brother he'd eat an apple tonight." You put the plates in the sink and went over to the oven. It was turned off, but keeping something warm inside.

"Yup, and I don't see any apples, so I guess I win." Dean looked very pleased with himself and you almost felt bad to burst his bubble, but you did anyway.

"Well look harder Mr. Winchester." You turned around and placed an absolutely perfect apple pie in the center of the table.

If you could have captured the look on Dean's face you would have saved it and held onto it for the rest of eternity; keeping it safely tucked against your heart. His eyes lit up and his mouth fell open. He looked from the pie to you and back, totally mesmerized and happy. His eyes glazed over with a look of pure lust and you laughed at him as you cut into the golden crust and placed a slice on his plate; the warm smell of cinnamon and sugar rose through the air. The apples from the fruit stand were layered expertly inside the flaky pastry.

"You sure know the way to Dean's heart Y/N." Sam joked.

Dean scoffed at him "Shut up Sammy." He brought his fork down through the pie and lifted a mouthful to his lips. The look from before was nothing compared to this one: the look of Dean enjoying something you made. If Sam wasn't sitting right next to you, you would have jumped across the table and into Dean's lap right then. "Oh my god Y/N... this is amazing." he mumbled around a mouth full of his second bite.

"Thank you. My grandmother's secret recipe." You said, filling Sam's plate with pie as well. He smiled and ate, enjoying it but not nearly as much as Dean was.

"So... I guess you get me for another night. Unless you came up with anything that could possibly get me home?" you asked, looking between the boys.

Sam swallowed and cleared his throat. "I haven't come up with a thing. I'm sorry."

Dean licked his fork and eyed you happily, "I guess you're stuck here for a while."

"Yeah, well you lost the bet so you're in your own bed tonight sir." You said flirtatiously.

"Should I leave?" Sam asked.

"No." You said at the exact same time Dean said "Yes."

You laughed and took a bite of your creation.

"I did pick up some rumblings of a case." Sam said, ignoring the intense eye contact you and Dean were enjoying. "It's up near Denver. Looks like our kinda thing, something's been dropping bodies late at night, all ex-sanguinated."

You dropped your fork and snapped your head towards the tall hunter. "Ex-sanguinated? As in vampires? As in you're gonna go hunt some vamps? Oh. My. Chuck. I'm so in." you clapped your hands excitedly.

"Wait a sec... no one said you were going anywhere." Dean held his hand up as he spoke.

"You can't tell me what to do. If I'm stuck here, then I'm gonna help." You protested.

"You don't know anything about hunting." He argued.

"Excuse me sir, I know everything about hunting." you bitch-faced him. "Are you forgetting that I've been studying your lives like it's my own personal religion? I know everything I could possibly need to know. And sure, I've never actually done any of it, but I'm sure it can't be that hard. See vamp, chop head off; done. Nice and easy. I am so going with you and you can't stop me." He looked at you and shook his head, forcing you to continue rambling. "I know things Dean. I do. I know how to kill almost every monster you've encountered. I know how to draw a devil's trap and even have the exorcism ritual memorized. Well, OK, the first half. I get a little jumbled when I get to the 'Ergo Draco' thing. Mostly because it reminds me of Harry Potter and then I start thinking about that and then I get mixed up. But the point is, I can help. I can!" You stopped and took a deep breath, crossing your hands across your chest defiantly.

Sam was almost in hysterics when you finished. He hid his laughter behind his hand, waiting for Dean's reaction. You were a little nervous, but there was no way you were not going on a hunt.

Dean put his fork down and pushed his chair back, standing up so he was towering over you. His face was momentarily unreadable and you got a little scared; maybe that was too much? Maybe you'd pissed him off. This wasn't good.

He cleared his throat and said calmly. "Sammy, you may want to excuse us."

Sam dropped his fork and looked up at his brother. "Why?"

Dean stalked over to your side of the table and you scooted back in your chair, scraping the legs across the tile floor. You were backing away, somewhat terrified. Dean reached down and grabbed your arms, pulling you up to your feet. You let out a squeak of fear and closed your eyes, preparing for the worst, but all you felt was Dean's lips as they crashed into yours for third time today. His hand snaked up your back to cradle your head as he drove his tongue into your mouth. You let out a cry of surprise and melted against him, bringing your hands up between your bodies to feel his hard chest.

You heard Sam's chair scrape across the floor as he stood up to leave.

"Thanks for dinner." He called from the hallway, quickly leaving the kitchen before he saw anything he'd regret.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Like the fluff? Sorry. Stick with me. It IS going somewhere, and thanks for all the comments they mean a lot! :)**_


	4. When You Slay Some Vamps

_**A/N: Chapter Warnings: Angsty! More cursing. Dean's being mean. Vampire battle so some violence and blood. Nothing too bad, I don't think.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_

* * *

The job was in a little town just outside of Denver, Colorado; over a six-hour drive from Lebanon. Six hours in the car with Sam and Dean. You couldn't say you weren't excited about this entire thing; road trip with the Winchesters, hunting vampires, this was awesome with a side of amazing.

Of course you were also terrified. How could you not be? You knew all about hunting technically as you'd yelled at Dean the night before, but really you knew nothing. You'd never even been in a fist fight; OK, one time you slapped your sister but that was once and it probably hurt your hand more than it did her face. You were prepared mentally, but not physically, and the boys knew that. But you were determined to help and they could not convince you to stay back. You were part of this now, no matter the reason why, and you weren't about to sit around playing housewife. You were gonna fight.

You were probably gonna pass out too, but you were keeping yourself calm, spending most of the drive staring out the window or sitting on your hands when you got anxious. Sam kept the conversation moving, telling you things he thought would help. He was a good teacher: he spoke in scientific terms, but ones you could understand. Dean had more of a "shut up and do what I say" attitude towards teaching. "Vampires are stronger than you. You see one coming, you swing. You don't think about it; you do not want one to get their hands on you because you're too damn small to fight one off." he said.

You caught his eyes in the mirror more than once watching you. He would linger there, with a soft, caring expression before turning away angrily. You knew he was glad you were there, but also pissed off because you seemed determined to throw yourself to the wolves. You promised yourself you'd hold your own and not give Dean any other reasons to worry.

"So... we goin' in as Feds? Animal control?" You asked, sticking your head between the boys in the front seat. "Oooh... maybe reporters? I wrote for my school newspaper. Well, one article. Well, I co-wrote it with my friend Emily. It was about the new basketball courts being installed, it wasn't exactly groundbreaking. Well, actually it was since they literally had to break ground in the gym for the floors to go down and I said to Emily..."

"Y/N..." Sam flashed big puppy dog eyes at you and you shut up finally.

"I'm sorry. Just..."

"Excited. We know." He said. Dean gave a chuckle next to you and you turned your head to look at him. He flashed you a smile, keeping his eyes on the road.

"But seriously, what's the plan guys?" You inquired, sitting back again against the black leather seat.

"Think we'll go Federal on this one." Dean said.

You raised your eyebrows and pumped your fist. "Yeah baby!"

"We're gonna need to make a pit stop first and get you some clothes."

"I get Fed Threads? Eek!" You bounced a bit at that, smiling like a fool.

"Y/N... don't take this the wrong way but..." Sam turned around a bit in his seat to face you. "It's been four days. Is your excitement level ever going to go down? It's...cute but..."

"Annoying? Thanks Sam." You huffed and crossed your arms, looking away.

"Leave her alone Sammy. You're just upset because you can't feel joy anymore." Dean scolded his brother, making you laugh.

"I feel joy. Shut up."

"You do not. When was the last time you got excited about anything? And don't say that waitress from Oregon. What was her name, Polly?"

"Piper," You chimed in from the back.

"Oh right, Piper. She don't count." Dean continued.

"I get excited." Sam defended himself, turning his attention out his window, trying to end the bombardment. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"HA!" you laughed at their catchphrases and bit your lip. "Sorry."

* * *

You had stopped at a mall a little while later and you got hooked up with some new clothes, including your very own Fed Threads. Even though they were comfy you were glad to finally be out of Dean's old t shirts and into something that fit. You walked back to the car ready to go in a navy blue pencil skirt, pale blue blouse, and a jacket. Your black heels clicked on the cement as you sashayed confidently towards the boys. Dean was practically drooling by the time you reached the car. "You clean up nice." He said, clearing his throat and opening your door for you.  
"Well thank you sir, that's mighty kind of you." You joked and slid in the backseat again.  
"Got something for you." Sam said, handing you a folded black leather rectangle from the front seat.  
Your heart beat quickly and you carefully took it from him. "Is this...?" You flipped the cover open to reveal your very own fake i.d. and badge. A little tear snuck up behind your eye. "Agent Y/N Slick... Slick?... wait, who are you Sam?" You leaned over to look at his new badge. "Kantner? Are we going Jefferson Starship here?" You asked, putting the names together.  
"You know your rock bands huh?" Dean said.

"I thought you hated them. You named a beast after them because 'they're horrible and hard to kill'." You laughed.  
"Alright, enough with the " _this is your life_ " stuff Y/N. I didn't have a lot of time here." Dean defended his decision and you rolled your eyes at him.

Maybe he was right; maybe it was time to shut up about knowing everything and being so excited, but damn it, this was excited and you did know everything! You looked back out the window as Dean pulled back onto the interstate, watching the mile markers fly past in tiny green blurs. It was warm and quiet in the car and you leaned your forehead against the glass, slowly starting to doze off; the drone of the engine and faint rocking in the backseat lulled you into a trance, your eyes drifting closed against your will.

"Y/N..."

Your eyes popped open upon hearing your name whispered. You looked ahead but neither brother was speaking to you; they were looking out at the road, silent as before. You shrugged it off and rested your head against the door again, enjoying the twilight of almost being asleep.

"Y/N..." You heard it again, this time a little louder. You opened your eyes and saw a bright flash of light, like a torch being shined across your face.

"What the fuck is that!" You screeched, sitting straight up in your seat, plastering yourself against the back of the car.

Dean was startled and turned the wheel a bit too much when he turned to look at you, causing the car to swerve into the shoulder a bit. "What happened?" He yelled, returning his focus to the road.

Sam turned around best he could, "Are you OK Y/N?"

You shook your head, trying to regain your composure. "I have no idea. I was falling asleep and I heard... someone calling me, and then there was a bright light like a flashlight in my face." You rubbed your eyes; you could still see the trail of the light burned temporarily across your vision.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then back at you. "Maybe you were dreaming?" Sam offered.

"I guess," you said. "But it seemed pretty real."

"Well stay awake for a while, will you? You almost gave me a heart attack." Dean said and turned on the radio, filling the car instantly with raunchy guitar licks.

Sam reached over and turned the volume down so you could hear him. "You sure you're OK?"

"Yeah Sam, thanks. You're right, probably just a dream. Sorry."

He smiled and turned back around, leaving you to question your sanity in peace. What the hell was that light?

* * *

You were a terrible liar. Just horrendous. You could lie to your mother, you could lie to your friends, you could lie to your boss, but lying to an actual police officer about being a Federal Agent... this was way above your head and you were sweating and fidgeting the entire time you stood between Sam and Dean in the police station.

"You are really bad at this." Dean said as the three of you descended the steps of the station.

You frowned at him, "I'm sorry! I've never..." You lowered your voice, "lied to the cops before."

"You just have to relax. If you look like you belong somewhere, then people believe you do." Sam said, again using a calm, gentle approach to your tutelage. "You carry yourself with confidence and half the job's done. You can get almost anything you want by being assertive and giving off an air of importance." He stood up tall and raised his chin; his long hair flipping behind him.

"I guess I missed that day in school." you answered, disappointed in yourself for doing so poorly.

"Well hurry up and learn Sweetheart, you're gonna drag us all down here." Dean's tone was just a little nastier than you'd hoped to ever hear and you froze on the bottom step and looked at him with hard eyes.

"You don't have to be a dick about it." You sneered. "I've never done this before."

He spun around and looked at you. "I know. That's why I wanted to you stay back. This isn't a game Y/N. You think you know something about our lives, but you don't. You can't just pop in here and expect to be an expert on things. Watching on TV and doing are two different things, one wrong move and you can get yourself killed." He finished his lecture and rounded the corner to the parking lot, headed for the car.

You wanted to cry. You felt the big fat tears hauled up behind your eyes and you wanted nothing more than to run away and hide in a corner and cry. Sam stayed back with you and waited to speak until you turned and looked up at him. He could see the glistening threat of tears in your eyes.

"Y/N... he's just..."

"A dick. Yeah, I realize that now." You closed your eyes and let one drop of salt water escape. You smacked it off your face angrily. "I don't get it Sam; he was all lovey-dovey and nice yesterday. We were practically swimming in fluff and now he's calling me Sweetheart in that nasty voice and yelling at me. What the hell dude? Who turned on the angst?"

Sam put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but you gotta let it go. Dean's just worried about you getting hurt. He is right, you should probably hang back tonight and not come with us." You glared up at him as he said that. "But I know you won't, so just stick close to me and don't let Dean upset you. He gets like this when he's worried."

"Thanks Sam." You leaned in and gave him a quick hug. "Now teach me all about being a Con Man." You smiled.

Sam laughed, throwing his arm around you. "Hey, I'm not a Con Man!"

"You kinda are." You laughed with him.

* * *

You and Sam spent the rest of the day locked up in the motel room consulting news articles and maps and going over the interviews that Dean had come back with. You mostly stayed clear of Dean, you were pissed; he didn't have to yell at you like that. It wasn't your fault you were here. He didn't seem to want to make you feel any better about things; he sat on the edge of the bed drinking a beer and staring at you, not saying a word. So you ignored him and hung out with Sam, following clues to the vampires' nest. It was fun, you had to admit. Maybe you were a huge nerd, but you always knew you'd be great at helping Sam with research and he seemed to be glad to have someone else who shared his love of books and used computers for things other than anime porn.

"I…I think… I have something…" You stood up with a print out in your hands and walked over to the wall where Sam had hung up a map of the tristate area. You grabbed the marker out of Sam's hand and began putting tiny blue Xs on the map and he came over to see what you were doing.

"You think?" He asked, following your train of thought easily.

"I do. Look here," You pointed with the pen tip to a spot on the map.

Dean craned his neck to see what you were doing, but Sam was in the way. "What?" he asked.

You ignored him. "And over here is where the third victim was found." You continued talking with Sam.

He shook his head, rubbing a finger over his lip. "Yeah but why would they drop him there if…"

"No, don't you see? It feels like a mistake, doesn't it? That Vic was mutilated; completely different M.O. from the rest of them. I'm thinking it was…"

Sam jumped in, finishing your sentence, "A new vamp losing control? Yeah, that might fit. Especially if they're…"

"Turning every other victim. Yeah, that's what I was thinking too." You stood next to Sam, almost shoulder to shoulder if you ignored the drastic height difference; you both adopted the same pose, heads tilted looking at the maps, arms folded.

Dean cleared his throat, "Is anyone gonna fill me in here?"

You and Sam both turned and looked Dean. "Y/N found the nest." Sam said plainly.

"I sure did," you said. Sam turned back and fist bumped with you.

"You found it on a map. Now Sam and I can go see if it's really there." Dean stood up and unbuttoned his top button. "Gimmie a sec to change Sammy and we'll get going."

"I'm going too," you said, standing up tall, asserting yourself as Sam had told you to do.

"Uh, no." Dean grabbed some clothes out of his duffle and walked with them towards the bathroom.

"I'm going!" You yelled at the door as Dean slammed it shut behind him. "I'm going Sam." You turned to your friend.

He shook his head and sighed, "I know Y/N. Put your boots on and get in the car."

You pumped your fist in victory and laced up your boots. This was gonna be awesome. Or quite possibly get you killed; but you were determined to prove Dean wrong and be amazing.

* * *

The nest was there alright. Dean managed to convince you to stay in the Impala while he scoped the place out. The vamps were living in an old warehouse six miles outside of town. You really felt like you'd seen the building before, but how could you? You'd never even been to this part of the country before. You were racking your brain trying to figure out why this place was so familiar when Dean reappeared, ripping the driver side door open and hoping into his seat.

"OK," He said, looking between you and Sam. "I counted six vamps. Pretty sure the old guy with the gray hair is the Master, but who knows. They have a young girl tied up in a back room." Dean turned to face you, "Y/N, if Sam and I deal with the vamps, you think you can get her out of there?" His face was like a stone; hard and tired and he searched your eyes for an answer.

You nodded, gathering all your courage and said firmly: "I can do it."

Sam handed you an extremely long knife out of the arsenal in the trunk. "What, no dead man's blood?" You joked.

"You are not gonna get close enough to use it Y/N." He said seriously. "You need to stay back and out of the way. Get the girl out and bring her here; then stay here and wait for us. Do not come back in and try to help, you hear me?" He dipped his head down to meet your eye level.

"I got it Sam." Your voice was shaking, your nerves were creeping up on you and you began to seriously question your decision to aid them on this hunt.

Dean sheathed his knife and tucked his machete under his arm. He came up behind you and pulled your arm, turning you around to face him. "I still think this is a really bad idea," he said.

"I know," you looked down at your feet, trying not to lose your drive to do this.

Dean put his hand on your cheek and lifted your face up to his. "I don't want you to get hurt," he said. You smiled at him and before you could say anything he kissed you; his lips pressed firmly against yours for mere seconds and then he was gone. He pulled away and set off for the house leaving you confused and more nervous than before.

"Your brother makes my head spin," you said, walking past the taller brother towards the house.

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, he has that effect on most people."

OK, now you knew for certain that you were an idiot. If you ever had any trouble seeing during a dark scene on the show, you couldn't see for shit now. It was pitch black inside the building; Dean lead you and Sam through the back door and silently pointed you to the left, indicating that's where the girl was being held. You took a deep breath, gripped your knife tightly and nodded a goodbye to each Winchester.

If someone was keeping a list of all the stupid things you'd done in your life, they would definitely put this close to the top. You crept down a dark hallway towards an even darker door at the end; you kept your back to the wall and the knife held high like a baseball bat. Your heart was pounding almost to the point of being painful, and the little voice in your head was telling you to turn tail and run. The sounds of Sam and Dean (hopefully) kicking butt ran throughout the building, giving you the courage to move forward. You had a job to do. You pressed on, jumping at any little noise, and soon you found yourself turning the knob and sneaking silently inside the room.

At least there was light in here. It did nothing to help ease your fear because now you could see the horror and not just imagine it. The room was small and dark, a single bulb hung down from the center of the ceiling. There were three or four fresh bodies piled off to the right; you gagged and held your breath, trying not to let your eyes linger too long over them. There was nothing you could do for them. You looked straight back and found your target: a small blonde girl was slumped against the wall; her hands tied together and suspended from a hook. She looked to be no older than fourteen and you let out a tiny cry as you saw her. Her head was down against her chest; she didn't look like she was breathing. Very slowly you went towards her and touched her arm. Her head shot up instantly; she looked at you with red, bloodshot eyes that struggled to stay open. She was covered in bruises and her neck was caked in dried blood.

"Hey… It's OK." You said quietly. "I'm here to rescue you."

The girl's head fell back and she groaned painfully.

"OK, not just me, there's these guys here too, they're amazing. Wait till you meet them. I mean…Right, shit. OK. Hang on." You slapped yourself mentally and stood up to cut her loose. The ropes were thick, but they were just ropes. The knife Sam gave you was very sharp, but you still had to saw a bit to get the bindings to move. Before you knew it you had freed both of her arms. The girl whimpered and you bent down to scoop her up.

The door swung open and slammed against the wall with a loud bang. You jumped and looked over, expecting to see one of the boys come to help, but man were you wrong. You stood up and stepped in front of the girl to shield her as you came face to face with a real life vampire. The creature was a little taller than you were and he had long stringy black hair that hung in front of his face; he growled and bared his teeth at you. You dug down deep in your gut and pulled up anything that could help you; you screamed at him and raised your knife, ready to strike. He came at you, lunging forward to grab you and you did what Dean told you to do: you swung, hard. You brought the knife down and across and it thankfully made contact with the monster's neck. Unfortunately, you were not strong enough to make it all the way through and the knife got stuck about a quarter of the way through. The wound spurted blood, coating the wall next to him, but the vampire didn't fall; he kept moving forward. You pulled the hilt of the blade, but it was stuck. You gave up on your bravery and started screaming for Sam and Dean. You closed your eyes as the monster reached you, grabbing your arm. One last shout ripped through your body and you braced for death.

You wouldn't open your eyes, you wouldn't look your killer in the face; you kept them sealed tight and waited. Seconds later his hand fell away from your arm and you heard a thud. You peeked one eye open and watched as the vampire's body fell, his head having been fully severed by the hero standing behind him. You smiled at your savior, "Thanks babe."

"I told you you were gonna get yourself hurt," Dean said, wiping his blade on his jeans.

"I didn't! I'm fine," you argued instantly. "And look, I save the girl! Boom!" You shot him a nasty look and he smiled back, shaking his head with a small laugh.

"You're crazy," he said as he picked up your fallen knife, now unstuck from the vampire's neck and handed it to you. "I like that."

"Gee thanks. How 'bout you help me carry this poor girl outta here and we go get a drink," You said, kneeling back down beside the unconscious child. "You guys got the other freaks I assume."

"We did," Dean answered, bending down to help you. "And a drink sounds awesome. Beers on you Y/N."

"Beer? Fuck that, I need something stronger after this shit." You lifted the girl together, each taking an arm until she was on her feet and then Dean scooped her up, one hand under her legs and the other under her shoulders.

"I'm down for that," he winked.

* * *

As you pulled away from the warehouse you got that strange feeling again, like you had been here before. But not exactly Deja Vu, but you did know this place, you'd definitely seen it before. You shook it off and tried to ignore the itching questions in your mind. This was no time to be worried, this was a time to celebrate; the guys had slain a nest of vamps and you had helped save a girl. You'd probably leave out the part about partially decapitating a vamp the next time you told the story, but it was still pretty awesome. One win in the books for the hunting career of Y/N Y/L/N.


	5. When You Get Some Insight From The King

_**A/N: Warnings: Nothing too bad in this one. More Angst and Cursing, a little Dean Fluff to ease the pain. Hope you're enjoying! Thanks for reading!**_

* * *

After you had dropped the little girl off at the hospital Dean had driven to a bar near the motel and that's where you'd all been for the last four hours. It was getting late and you were getting very drunk. It's not like you couldn't hold your liquor on a normal night, but damn, these boys could drink. You started off well, attempting to match them shot for shot, but after your fifth you had to bow out and focused on making your current glass of whiskey last as long as possible. You sat at the bar off to the side, sandwiched between the Winchesters, alternating between laying your head on Dean's shoulder and hanging off of Sam's arm. Your nerves had been calmed long ago and you were back to the excited ramblings of a fangirl that the guys had come to love hearing spill from your lips.

"Yeah but, listen, don't you ever go back and check on them?" You asked, giving Sam a hard look. "I mean, you drop these people off at the hospital and then what? They just go about their lives? How do they explain themselves when they're asked what happened? 'Oh, hey, yeah a vampire bit me.' That's not gonna go well in the real world."

"I guess we try not to think about it." He replied with a shrug.

"Oh but then sometimes they do come back at you. You remember that dude... that dude in season seven..." You slurred, taking another tiny sip from your glass. "After Sam hit the dog... oh no, was that season six? Shit, I can't remember; when was that?"

"What are you talking about? Seasons? Come on Y/N." Dean shook his head, laughing at you. "You're wasted."

"I am not! I just can't remember what I'm talking about. Oh, yeah, Jeffrey? That was his name. You exorcised him and then he was like a psycho killer and tried to get the demon back, but the demon didn't want him... you remember. You remember!" You slapped Sam on the arm.

"OK I remember! Oh yeah, I do." Sam nodded, pulling up the memory of the case that went the wrong way. "That was weird."

"That's what I'm saying. like, how many people could be out there completely damaged because of you saving them? That's so weird." You looked back and forth between the brothers, laying the truth on them. "I mean, you do the right thing, but at what cost sometimes? Doesn't that bother you? How do you ever make any decisions? That's gotta suck."

"We do what we have to do. No one else is gonna do it," Dean said. "Hopefully we do the right thing. Sometimes the consequences suck, but it has to be done."

You shook your head and looked at him tearfully. "I'm so sorry Dean." You put your hand on his rough cheek and sighed, drunken tears collecting in your eyes. "It's not fair." You turned to look at Sam. "For either of you. I want you to know that we appreciate you, everything you do, all the time. I know you never hear that, but it's true." You leaned in and kissed Dean's lips quickly. You sniffled and turned to give Sam a kiss on the cheek. You threw your arms around each of their necks and pulled them in, looking off into the distance so you wouldn't start crying like a baby. "You guys are... so...What the fuck?" You looked straight across the crowded bar and saw a face that shouldn't be there. It was Hannah, your roommate. Your dead roommate. You blinked and shook your head; when you looked back she was gone.

"You OK?" Dean asked, his head still stuck in the crook of your arm.

You released them both and nodded, "Yeah, thought I saw something." You picked up your drink and downed the rest of it in one big swallow. Maybe you were wasted.

You sat back down on your stool and folded your hands, looking down onto the polished wooden bar top. First the flashing light in the car, then the building looking so familiar, now Hannah appearing out of nowhere; what the hell was happening?

Dean's hands were on your back, gently rubbing across your shoulder. "Y/N?" He was trying to pull you back to him, but you were stuck, stuck in your questions; trying to figure out what you were missing. There was something right on the edge of your mind that you couldn't quite get too. Whatever tomorrow brought, you knew you had to get back to figuring out what you were doing here. Vampire hunting and pie baking aside, this was serious and it needed to be dealt with.

"Hey, Sweetheart... look at me." Dean was almost shaking you and you finally left your mind and came back to him, turning your head and smiling.

"Sorry."

"Where'd you go?" He asked, genuine concern filling his green eyes.

"I was just..." You looked away again and stood up, pushing yourself up off the bar. "I'm gonna go to the restroom."

You walked to the bathroom and turned to give Dean a reassuring smile, to let him know you were OK. You did and as you looked over at him you saw Hannah again. She stood where you had seen her before, in a crowd of people in the other side of the bar. Dean turned to see what you were looking at but he didn't see anything and got up to walk towards you. Hannah stared right at you, smiling gently. You watched her, not moving or speaking, afraid she would disappear again. Suddenly she turned and went for the door.

Dean's hand came up to touch your arm; he was calling your name, trying to get you to look at him, but you couldn't hear him. You took off, knocking into Dean as you ran for the door, chasing the apparition of your deceased friend.

You ran through the crowds, not caring what you looked like or who you bumped into as you went. You didn't stop until you felt the cool night air hit your face as you exploded through the front door. You spun around, looking in every direction for Hannah. You saw her about a block away, walking slowly, her long red hair shimmering under the street lamps. She paused to look back at you and then turned a corner. You pushed off with your right foot and sprinted towards her; following her around the corner into a dark alley. Of course it's a dark alley, you thought to yourself. You stopped at the entrance and looked down; there was no one there.

"Hannah!" Your voice echoed off the brick buildings you stood between. It was eerily dark and empty. You were sure she had come down this way. "Hannah!" You yelled again and took a deep breath as you walked carefully down into the darkness towards nothing.

"Looking for someone?" A thick British accented voice rang out from the mouth of the alley. You turned around to see the source and your mouth fell open.

The King of Hell himself was walking towards you; his hands in the pockets of his tailored black suit, his face painted with a mischievous smile.

"Holy shit," you gasped.

"Ah, I see you know who I am," He said, stopping just a few feet in front of you.

You nodded. "You're Crowley. King of Hell, son of Rowena, bitch of Lucifer."

He didn't like that last line and his jaw tightened, the smile falling away from his bearded face. "I'd watch my mouth if I were you Y/N," he threatened.

"How...how do you know my name?" You asked, backing up against the wall, suddenly not so confident in your ideas of Crowley's gentle nature. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was a demon.

"I know a lot about you my dear. Like for instance; you're not supposed to be here."

"I'm not?" You swallowed hard.

"No, you're not. In fact..."

"Get away from her Crowley," Dean's voice interrupted the demon. He and Sam had finally caught up and were making their way down the street towards you.

"Hello boys," Crowley turned to them. "I'm just introducing myself to your new girlfriend Dean. She's cute."

"Shut up jerk," You said harshly. Crowley shot a nasty glare at you and you squeaked in fear, negating any assertiveness you may have impressed him with.

"Just leave her alone. What are you doing here anyway?" Sam asked.

Crowley shrugged, "I came to meet her. The underworld is a buzz with talk about Y/N here. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I can't say I'm disappointed." Crowley smiled at you and raised a flirtatious eyebrow. You cringed and looked away. That was not gonna happen, ever.

"Why are they talking about me?" You managed to say dispite almost gagging at the thought of Crowley hitting on you.

"Because you're not supposed to be here, as I said."

Dean stepped forward and reached out for you. You took his hand and moved away from the demon slowly. "You wanna elaborate?" He asked, glaring at Crowley.

"I'd rather not. Not just yet. But I'd start asking around. Maybe your angel friend could shed some light. Where is the wing-boy anyway? I haven't seen him in a long while."

"He's busy," Dean snapped.

"Oh, well, excuse me. Fine, then just get to it yourself. I'd hurry, it seems things are already starting to bleed through. Isn't that right Y/N?" he tilted his head and looked at you, waiting for you to catch on. You didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"What's he talking about Y/N?" Sam asked.

You shrugged at him, not able to speak.

"Why don't you just poof on outta here and leave her alone," Dean shouted at him, pushing you protectively behind him. You grabbed at his elbow and put your forehead against his back. 'things bleeding through'? What the hell does that mean?

"Fine, well, I warned you. Enjoy the rest of your night boys." Crowley raised his hand to wards you and waved. You peeked over Dean's shoulder at him. "Good night Y/N. See you soon." He winked quickly and vanished.

"Huh," you said, stepping back from Dean a bit. He turned to look you. "They really just go poof huh? That's cool."

"What did he say to you?" Dean asked, the anger still visible in his face.

"Nothing. He showed up right before you did. You heard as much as I did." You shrugged.

"So you don't have any idea what he's talking about?"

"No. I don't." Dean looked away as you answered him and you touched his arm. "Hey, don't do that again. You can't keep flipping from adorable, sexy Dean to being mad at me; you're giving me whiplash dude."

"I'm not mad at you," he replied. "I'm concerned."

You looked up at him for a long while, neither of you speaking.

Sam piped up from behind you, breaking the silence. "How 'bout we go home and tomorrow we can worry about whatever the hell Crowley was talking about."

"Good plan Sammy," Dean said and started to follow his brother out of the alleyway. You didn't move. You were trying to take stock of your life, figure out what was happening, but it felt like as soon as you relaxed something new was jumping out at you. It was exhausting. Dean doubled back and stopped next to you. You turned to him, your eyebrows furrowed, still deep in thought.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you again," he said. "And for being an ass all day."

"It's OK, Dean. I know you're worried, but I don't know why." You looked away towards the street, Sam was long gone from sight and you wanted to follow him and get in the car and pass out.

Dean put a finger on your cheek and guided your face back to his. "I'm worried because I like you; I thought you'd figured that out all ready." He leaned down to kiss you but you started talking instead.

"Doesn't that seem weird to you Dean?" You said, looking into his eyes. "None of this is bothering you?"

"Maybe a little..." He closed his eyes, reaching with is mouth to catch your lips.

Again you stopped him with your words, "I pop up out of nowhere, knowing every detail of your lives and you just accept that and... say you like me? Dean Winchester doesn't like people. This is all insane. It's like...I don't know what it's like, but it's too weird. And now Crowley shows up and tells me some crazy shit and what, you're just gonna kiss me and we'll forget about it?"

"That was what I was trying to do," he smiled and pressed his forehead against yours.

"And that! You pressed your forehead against mine? No one actually does that! It's like I'm living in a fanfiction!"

"Please shut up. Let's try my plan and we'll see what happens, OK?" Dean rubbed your cheeks with his calloused with his calloused hand, and you gave up trying to reason with him.

You sighed and nodded gently, "OK then, kiss away Mr. Winchester."

"Well don't get excited about it or anything." He teased.

"You have no idea how excited I am just standing next to you, so all this may give me a heart attack."

He laughed; you certainly would never get tired of making Dean laugh. If the last thing you ever saw was his lips curled up into a smile and his eyes crinkling around the edges as he laughed at you, you could die happily.

* * *

Back in the motel room you lay on your bed, blankets pulled up high on your neck, staring up at the ugly popcorn ceiling. You tried to sleep but your mind was moving too fast; you went over everything from the past week, everything you had seen, everything Crowley had told you. You were exhausted and drunk and you just wanted to sleep already, but you knew that wasn't happening.

Sam was snoring in the bed next to you, happily dreaming away. Dean was stretched out on the couch by the door; he wasn't snoring and you knew he was awake. You rolled over and sat up, looking over Sam to see Dean. He was lying on his side looking right at you; his green eyes visible in the faint light leaking out from under the bathroom door.

"Can't sleep?" you asked, keeping your voice low as to not wake Sam.

"Nah," he whispered back.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"You," he sighed and rolled over onto his back.

You fell back against your pillow and took a deep breath. Dean Winchester was wide awake because of you. That was just…unbelievable. "Dean?" You whispered a bit louder.

"Yeah Y/N?"

"I'm sorry I was a little crazy before. I do totally want you to kiss me. It's just…I feel like this is all fake; does that make any sense? It's like, it's too good to be true." Sam stirred next to you, rolling over so he was facing you. You lowered your voice and continued. "It's like everything I've ever wanted but… how could it be real?" You sat up again and looked at him. He was still on his back, one hand under his head and the other resting on his stomach. He turned his face to you and shook his head a bit.

"I have no idea. All I know is, I'm real. Sam's real. You're real. Why can't everything else be real? Maybe it just is what it is and you shouldn't try to think about it too much; just enjoy the ride." He gave a little half smile and turned back to the ceiling.

You lay back and thought about that for a moment. It wasn't logical, but it was the easiest option. Fine, you'd just accept that it was what it was. There was nothing you could do about it tonight anyway.

The clock ticked loudly across the room and you knew you weren't falling asleep any time soon. You listened carefully, trying to ascertain if Dean had nodded off yet. "Dean?" You whispered, softer than before.

"Yeah Y/N?"

You didn't answer him. Instead you slipped quietly out from under your covers and tiptoed over to him. He watched you glide over to him and he opened his arms to you, turning onto his side to make room for you next to him. You lay down and pressed yourself against him, lying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and took a deep breath. He kissed the top of your head and said, "You know this would be easier in the bed."

"Shut up and kiss me Dean," you smiled.

* * *

There was music playing; loud rock music. What was that song? You hadn't heard it in forever and suddenly it was ringing in your ears. You stared out the window, the street lights looked like UFOs at this speed, buzzing past the car as you flew down the dark road. Hannah was at the wheel, her long hair whipping around her as she danced and banged her head to the music. Who sang that song? It was on the tip of your tongue… Hannah turned to you, taking her hands off the wheel and stuck her tongue out at you between devil horned fingers.

"Y/N…" Dean was calling to you, running his rough fingers down your face. "Y/N, wake up baby."

Hannah's car disappeared and you opened your eyes. You were tucked next to Dean on the ugly green couch in the motel room. You looked up at him, confused and startled.

"Sorry, you were crying in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?"

You shook your head, "I don't remember really; Hannah and I were driving…I don't know." You put your head back against him and tried to relax. Your head was pounding and the last thing you wanted to do was start crying again.

Dean kissed your forehead and hugged you tightly. You relaxed against him, his strong arms would keep you safe from everything, even nightmares.

"There's a perfectly good bed over there you know," Sam said, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes with balled fists.

"Shut up Sam," Dean shot at his brother though his eyes and attention stayed on you.

You sat up and almost fell off the edge of the couch. "So what's next? Hopefully there's coffee involved, but I'm up for whatever."

Dean ran his hand up your back and rubbed at your shoulder lightly. "Next we go home. And see what happens."

Sam combed his long hair with his fingers and stifled a yawn. "Yeah, I do think we need to get back to looking into your situation Y/N."

You whined, "Do we have too? Does it matter anymore?"

"I think it does. We should at least try to get you home." He said.

"You don't want me around anymore Sam?" You asked, trying not to let the feeling of utter rejection wash over you so early in the morning.

"No, not at all. I just think we need to get moving on the whys and hows. Especially with everything Crowley said last night."

You tossed your head back and groaned.

Dean pulled you back so you fell on top of him. He kissed your neck gently. "Not today Sam. We decided we're not gonna be thinking about that today."

"Yeah," you smiled.

Sam stood up and headed towards the bathroom, shaking his head at the both of you. "Fine, but it needs to be discussed. Try calling Cas again Dean." He said and shut the door.

"Yeah, why haven't I met Castiel yet? He's like my favorite character." You said, still lounging against the elder Winchester.

"I thought I was your favorite?" he said with a tinge of hurt.

You sat up and kissed his cheek. "You are, you are. I have many favorites. I love many, I ship lots. I'm an overall fan of your story Dean." You laughed.

"Well that's OK then. I thought I was gonna have to prove something to you."

You smirked, "You still can. I'm open for anything."

He pulled you down closer and you fell into kissing each other again. Let the research wait, let Sam wait. Who cares that Cas wasn't around, or that Crowley was stalking you? Who cares about the dreams and the visions and the ghosts? There was nothing to worry about; all you had to do was focus on Dean's lips and everything else faded away.


	6. When You Gank a Witch

_**A/N: Chapter 6 Warnings: Same cursing; Slightly PG13 in a romantic way; Blood, Injury. Fluff & Angst.  
**_

 ** _Thanks so much for staying with me on this one. Your reviews are awesome, truly. I wasn't happy with Chapter 5, and kind of lost it a bit, but your reviews pushed me onward. Thank you!_ **

* * *

The beeping was really getting annoying. It was a slow steady mechanical beep right in your ear. You rolled over and took your pillow with you, smashing it against your ears, trying to block the noise.

"OK, OK, I'm up!" You gave up trying to sleep and sat up, tossing the pillow aside. You looked around and there was no clock or alarm to account for the beeping. Now that you thought about it, it had stopped anyway. You shrugged and got up to get dressed.

Sleepily you made your way through the hallway to the kitchen. "Day 8 on this strange planet," you spoke to yourself as you walked your voice echoing slightly throughout the empty tiled expanse. "Y/N has finally learned her way around the maze of hallways within the Men of Letters Bunker. Determined to do something interesting today she decided to explore further, possibly making her way to the East Corridor which until now has remained uncharted."

"There's nothing good over there anyway," Dean materialized behind you and you jumped, startled and slapped him on the arm.

"How long were you following me?" You asked, blushing with embarrassment.

"For most of your National Geographic monologue," he laughed. "Come get some coffee and then I'll show you something cool."

"Oh really? What's that?"

"You'll have to wait and see," Dean smiled and walked ahead of you, his longer legs afforded him the advantage whenever you walked with him

"As long as it's not another book. Sam's killing me with the research. I'm starting to think there is no precedent for my situation and I'm just stuck here forever."

Dean stopped and spun around, his plump lips turned into a sexy smirk. "I'm kinda hoping you are," He said, moving towards you quickly and wrapping a hand around your back.

"You hope I'm stuck here?" You smiled up at him.

"Yeah, it'll give me more time to do things like this," Dean leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, sending a shimmer of heat through your body. His kisses were amazing; firm and full of emotion, you could feel his desire for you in every one.

When you finally made it to the kitchen, Sam was thankfully nowhere to be found. You and Dean shared a simple breakfast of coffee and toast, enjoying the alone time, playing tootsie underneath the kitchen table. It was funny how easily you fell into this situation; some mornings you woke up in a panic, confused and worried about where you were and why. But some mornings, like this one, you didn't care. You let yourself be distracted and carried away by the green-eyed man of your dreams; by the sweep of his lips across your skin or the touch of his hand as you walked together, the deep hypnotic timber of his voice as he spoke to you. You were falling completely in love with him, and it seemed he was feeling the same.

After you ate and the dishes were put away Dean lead you back down the hall this time turning left and going some ways down before stopping in front of door 7B. Your heart jumped a bit and you smiled, excited to finally see the room you'd been kept out of. Dean turned to you and saw your giddiness. "Why do you want to see this so badly?" he asked, finally opening the door.

"I have no idea. Probably because it's like one of the hottest scenes ever, when you were being cured. I don't know why. Is that weird? That's weird. I'm sorry. It was probably not fun for you at all, was it?" You stepped inside the room behind Dean, barely noticing anything around you as you fell headfirst into your ramblings. Thankfully Dean was used to this by now and let you go, smiling as you jabbered on. "And Sam thought he was killing you, but you know it's kind of a fair turn since when you and Bobby locked Sam in the Panic Room when he was high on demon blood you were kind of killing him, so I guess that's a nice parallel. Wow, you know I never thought about it like that, but I guess it was. That's brilliant, really. I mean it took 6 years to make the reference, but still that's some great writing…"

You finally shut your mouth and looked around, the room was plain, lined with metal racks filled with file boxes. It was neat and organized but dusty. Just a storage room.

"Wait, you thought it was hot when I was a demon?" Dean asked, watching you walk around the room, your fingers brushing over the boxes as you went.

"Well, you're hot all the time, but… yeah. Is that wrong? Does that make you uncomfortable? I know it wasn't a good thing, but something about you being bad was…intriguing." You stopped in front of a rack on the back wall and smiled; you were so ready for this. You put your hands on the metal shelf and pulled. Nothing happened. You pulled again, harder this time but the shelf did not move.

Dean laughed behind you. "Don't know everything do you?" He came up behind you and put his hands on your waist, moving you over about three feet to the right. "Try it here." He said. Your hands gripped the cold metal and pulled again, this time the shelves moved effortlessly, opening out and to the sides revealing the dungeon at last.

You gasped and held your breath as you walked in; stepping carefully over the painted devil's trap on the floor and moving towards the chair that sat empty in the center of the room. It was bigger than you had thought; the exposed brick wall was long and on it hung the enchanted chains that had held so many demons and other monsters. You stood in the center and shrugged. "Huh, thought this would be way more interesting," you laughed. "I guess without a prisoner it's just a room."

Dean moved around you and ran his hand over the back of the chair. He looked down at it, thinking about his time imprisoned there. You could see the pain in his eyes as he relived the memory.

"I guess it wasn't as sexy as it looked huh?" You slid closer to him and touched his hand gently. He took it, lacing his fingers through yours.

"It was," he said, still looking down at the chair. "It was sexy as hell; literally." He looked up at you. "But I did some bad stuff too. Some days I wish I could go back to it, to let the demon out again and do whatever the hell I want. But mostly I wish I could take it all back, undo it all so I don't have to remember it. I almost killed my brother."

"Eh… it wasn't the first time," you smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. You pushed up on your toes and kissed his cheek gently. He turned and caught your face in his hands, moving your lips to his mouth. He licked at your lips and the kiss deepened; you shivered against him and he pulled you close, his strong hands on the small of your back locking you to him. He walked you backwards until you hit the wall, never breaking the kiss. His fingers trailed your body, gently following the curvature of your hips and up your sides coming to rest on your breasts, gently massaging through the soft fabric of your t-shirt. You ran your hands up his back and through his short hair, forcing him to move closer, trying to take him in, to devour his lips with yours.

"Hey guys, so get this…" Sam's voice rang out in the empty dungeon as he barged in holding a newspaper. "Oh…sorry." He spun around as Dean pulled away from you and looked at his brother, his hands still on your chest. "Seriously? In the dungeon? What the hell?"

You closed your eyes and pressed your head back against the wall. He was right; what the hell kind of person gets turned on in a dungeon standing next to chains that were probably covered in ancient demon blood?

"You better have something good Sammy," Dean said, finally removing his palms from you. He crossed his arms and looked at his brother.

"Is it about me? Did you finally find something that could get me home?" You asked, stepping away from the wall and Dean and your humiliation.

"Well…no. I can't find a damn thing. Nothing in the lore, no reference to it anywhere. No omens on the night we found you, nothing." He frowned at you and held out the paper so you could see. "But…there's a case nearby if you guys want to do something other than defile every room in this place."

You flinched and looked at Dean for help. "You're just jealous," he said, winking at you. "What's the job?"

"'Local business man found dead by side of road, tongue and fingers missing'…eww," you read the headline that Sam had circled. "That's… gross. Let's go check it out!" Your enthusiasm to aid in another hunt was obvious and the boys smiled at you, Sam rolling his eyes a bit.

"Don't you think you should hang back this time?" Sam asked. "You could stay here and keep going through the archives. There's a whole section of texts from Rome that might be interesting to…"

You held up your hand to stop him, "Dude, I don't speak or read Italian. And I'm so done with books right now. Let's go! I promise to behave this time and I won't speak to anyone unless spoken too. I'll be seen and not heard, I swear." You zipped your lips and locked them, handing the invisible key to Sam.

He looked at your hand and laughed, "OK, I guess so."

"Yeay! I get to hunt!" You threw your arms around Dean's neck and jumped a bit more, acting like a school girl. He reached over and tickled your side, sending a shriek of laughter reverberating throughout the room. You recoiled instantly and he attacked again. Laughing you took off for the door lest he tickle you anymore and he followed, chasing after you.

As you ran out of the room Sam grabbed Dean's arm; "Dean we really need to focus on Y/N right now."

Dean glared at his little brother, "I'm trying too," he said.

"I mean on why she's here and how to get her home. It's been over a week with no leads. We need to spend some time on that."

Dean sighed, looking towards the door you had escaped through. "I know. I just don't want to yet. Give me a little more time Sam."

"Something bad is gonna happen, you know that right?" Sam continued, trying to get his brother on board with his suspicions.

"Why does it have to? Can't this be a good thing? Don't I deserve a something good? Y/N thinks so." Dean argued.

"You do Dean, it's just…" Sam ran his hands through his hair, "when do we ever get anything good without a price? There's something behind this, and I know it won't be good when we uncover what it is."

Dean shook his head. "I know. But not yet; let me have this for a little while longer."

"You really do like her huh?"

"I really do."

* * *

You behaved yourself as best you could. You stayed in the car when they asked, you kept your mouth shut when questioning witnesses; you were being good, but you were itching for some action. All signs were pointing to a witch; it seemed the dead business man had cheated on his wife a few too many times and fell victim to her magical wrath. It appeared to be fairly cut and dry, but there were a few pieces that still didn't make sense.

Dean was out grabbing dinner for the three of you while you and Sam stayed back at the motel hitting the books. You were set up at the table, your feet up on the empty seat next to you, book on your knees. Sam clicked away at his laptop, but otherwise it was quiet and warm and you were bored out of your mind. You took a deep breath and let your eyes shut for a moment; there were only so many times you could read the same line over before the words became a blur. Your head bobbed a few times and let it fall back slowly against the seat.

"Y/N honey, wake up please…"

You sat up quickly and looked at Sam. "What's up?"

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, "Nothing, why?"

"You just told me to wake up," you answered.

He shook his head, "I did not."

"Huh… OK. Sorry, as you were," you frowned and lay your head back again. You definitely heard something. You shrugged it off and crossed your arms, determined to fall back into a quick nap. Something moved outside the window next to you, instantly gripping your attention. You peeped an eye open and saw Hannah's face staring back at you through the cloudy glass. Immediately you stood up, knocking the book off your lap; it fell to the floor with a thud.

Sam's head popped up, "What's wrong Y/N?"

Your voice wasn't working so you simply pointed at the apparition.

"What is it? There's nothing there," Sam said, following your finger to nothing.

"What the fuck Sam, she's right there! It's Hannah." You looked at him quickly to make sure he was looking in the right place and then turned back to the window. Hannah was gone; you bolted for the door, knocking over your chair as you went. Sam called to you but you ignored him. Hannah was out there, and you were going to find her and figure out what the flying fuck was going on.

You flew out of the room and took stock of the parking lot; it was empty save for a few cars. Your room was on the back side of the complex, facing a dark wooded area with a few picnic tables and a jungle gym. You ran to the corner and looked down towards the other building: nothing. You turned back and saw Hannah again out of the corner of your eye; she was headed into the woods. She stopped and held her hand out to you, gesturing for you to follow. You broke into a run, chasing the ghost across the concrete lot towards the trees. You barely saw the Impala as it pulled up in front of the room. Dean climbed out carrying two white fast food bags. He looked at you confused and called your name. You ran past him, determined to get to Hannah before she vanished again.

Sam had finally pulled his boots on and come out to get you. Dean threw the bags at him, "Where is she going?"

"I don't know! She said she saw her roommate outside," Sam said, rearranging the bags in his hands.

"You're supposed to be watching her!" Dean yelled at him and took off towards you.

"I… I was…" Sam shook his head and went back inside with the food.

You had reached the tree line, Hannah was pretty far ahead of you now, but you kept going. You could hear Dean behind you, his boots striking the gravel loudly as he ran to catch you. "Y/N, come on! What are you doing?"

"Hannah is out there Dean!" You yelled back, not turning to look at him. You kept going, pushing through the overgrown bushes and low hanging branches. It was hot and humid, the leaves felt wet against your skin.

"Y/N!"

"No Dean I have to get to her!" A branch snapped back at you and scraped across your cheek leaving a long red line in it's wake. You stopped for a moment to rub your face and Hannah vanished. You yelled her name, but there was no answer. "God Damnit!" You screamed, clenching your fists and punching a tree trunk next to you. You pulled back and watched the bright red blood bubble up on your knuckles where the bark had cut you.

Dean's arms were around you, pulling you back to the room. He was talking to you, trying to calm you down, but you were still watching the trees, searching desperately with your eyes for your friend. She was gone again; you had gotten closer this time but still failed to reach her. He led you into the motel room and you let him move you to the bed. You sat and stared at your hands; this was wrong. Was Hannah a ghost? If so, where were the typical signs of a haunting? It didn't get cold, the lights didn't flicker. And what was she attached too? You? And why didn't the guys believe you? Their whole life was built on the impossible, why didn't they believe you when you told them she was there?

Dean was on his knees in front of you, gently wiping your hands clean. You weren't actively bleeding anymore but it stung as the cloth grazed over your tender flesh. The pain pulled you out of your thoughts and you could focus on Dean again.

"Hey babe," he said softly. "You keep disappearing like this I'm gonna start taking it personally."

You shot him a questioning look, "I don't disappear Dean."

"You do Sweetheart. You get a glazed look on your face and you aren't really here for a while. It's hard to pull you back sometimes." He smiled sadly, looking up at you with concern in his jade eyes.

"Sorry," you took a deep breath and tried to relax. You looked out the window again towards the trees. Was Hannah trying to tell you something? Maybe if you…

"See, there you go again. Baby, what's going on?" Dean's hand was on your face, he sat up on his knees so he was eye level with you. "Stay with me, OK?" He kissed you gently, begging you to return to him and stay. You let him hold you, your mind still mostly outside with Hannah.

"You're seeing things, aren't you?" Sam piped up from across the room. "It's like Crowley said, stuff is 'bleeding through'."

You nodded, "I think so." You sat back, pulling away from Dean's touch. You looked over at Sam. "It's not just Hannah. I mean, she's the only thing I'm seeing beside that flashlight thing in the car; but I'm hearing stuff. Like, my name being called and it's not either of you guys. And that warehouse where the vamps were… I could swear I know that place… I just don't know how. It's like all the answers are just beyond my reach and I can't sort anything out." So tired, you dropped your head and gave into your tears again. Just a little: they fell silently, nothing really pushing them out, but they fell all the same.

Dean sat next to you on the bed and rubbed your back. "Don't cry Y/N. This is what we do, we'll figure it out. I got you."

You leaned against him and put your head on his shoulder. "I know Dean, thanks."

* * *

You wanted to go to bed and sleep away the tears, but Dean didn't want to leave you alone so you ended up going with him and Sam to "gank the witch" as he put it. All the information pointed to it being a coven, two or three witches at most and not very powerful ones. Dean gave you a small gun from the trunk just in case things got out of hand; he showed you a few basic things like how to take the safety off and aim it. You laughed and shoved it in your jacket hoping to have no need of it; you'd never fired a gun before and would probably be a terrible shot.

You waited by the car while Sam and Dean went in to take out the coven. The house was beautiful; pale blue with black shutters on the windows; giant rose bushes on either side of the door. It was a perfect little suburban home; albeit harboring a murderous bitch, but you couldn't tell just by looking at it. Two shots were fired inside, the windows lighting up momentarily from the muzzle flash. You heard Sam yell; it sounded like he was hurt and you forgot your promise to stay back at the car.

You sprinted to the house and crashed through the open back door seeking to help your friends. Two women lay on the floor of the kitchen. Your eyes grew wide as you saw the headshots that took them down.

Dean was yelling in a nearby room and you went down a short hallway towards his voice. You found them in a study; Sam was lying on the floor, his head against the wall, clutching his side as blood poured from a wound there. He saw you come in and shook his head motioning for you to stay back, but it was too late: the witch saw you.

"You!" She yelled and pointed at you. You froze in the doorway; did she know you? You'd never seen her before, you were certain of that.

Dean stood a few feet away from her, his gun pointed at her head. He looked at you and clenched his jaw. "Thought I told you to stay in the car Y/N," he said.

"Do you know me?" You asked the witch, taking a step towards the short, raven-haired woman.

"Of course I do. We all know you," she sneered. "You're not supposed to be here Y/N, and your time is running out."

"What? What does that even mean?" Your heart was pounding; she knew something about why you were here.

"Don't listen to her Y/N. She's just trying to save her own skin." Dean yelled.

You ignored him, moving closer still. "What do you mean?" You yelled at the witch.

"Tell your boyfriend to put his gun down and we'll have a little chat," she smiled at you, baring bright white teeth behind her painted lips.

"Dean…" You turned, imploring him to stand down.

Dean shook his head, "No way Y/N. Get back." He did not take his eyes off of the witch.

"Oh well then, suit yourself." The witch flicked her hand at you and you felt yourself being thrown back against the wall. It was as if a giant hand knocked you off your feet, pushing you away. You hit the wall, your head slamming back, cracking against the sheetrock. The force faded away and you slid down the wall, mere inches away from where Sam lay still bleeding. You touched the back of your head and came away with blood on your fingers.

"Now you're done bitch," Dean yelled.

"No! Please Dean!" You screamed as he pulled the trigger and the bullet hit her perfectly between the eyes. The witch crumbled to the ground, blood spilling from her head.

Dean ran to you, shoving the gun in his pants. He cupped your face and looked you over, seeing the gash on your skull. "You OK? Shit! You should have stayed in the car!"

"I'm sorry!" You yelled back at him. "Why did you kill her? She knew something! She knew me!"

"She didn't know anything; she was lying. Sit still you're bleeding."

You pushed him away and scrambled to your feet. "I'm fine. Head wounds bleed a lot. I'll be fine. Sam's the one that needs help here." You knelt back down and put your hand on Sam's, moving it away so you could see his injury. It looked terrible, three or four inches across his ribcage, oozing dark red blood.

"You OK Sam?" You asked.

He scoffed, "I've had worse. Just help me up."

Dean grabbed one arm and you took the other and together you got Sam to his feet. He was weak and would need stitches. "Y/N's right Dean, you shouldn't have done that. She may have had some answers." He said, wincing as his side tore further when he stood.

"You two just shut up. I killed a witch. That's what we do." He replied, clearly upset.

"But Dean…" Sam threw his arm around your shoulder as you spoke, "She could have helped."

"Why are you in such a rush to get out of here? I thought this was your dream world?" Dean demanded, taking Sam's other arm and leading the way towards the front door.

Sam hung between you and Dean, leaning mostly on his brother as you were too small to offer much support. "I just want to know what's going on Dean. It's my life." You said, glad that Sam was blocking Dean's view of your face.

"Let's just get you two patched up and we'll worry about this later." He said, effectively ending the conversation.

Why was Dean so offended by you wanting information? What was the harm in figuring out what was going on? And what was it that the witch and Crowley knew that you didn't? No one spoke for a long time and your mind ran around through a mountain of questions as the Impala flew back to the motel. Your head was feeling better and you watched the trees glide past your window, secretly thanking Dean for killing the witch before she spoke. You couldn't admit it or even really believe it, but you didn't want to figure this out. You didn't want to go; you wanted to stay here forever, no matter the reason, with Sam and Dean; saving people and hunting things.

...


	7. When You Fail at Latin

**_A/N: Chapter 7 Warnings: Blood, Violence, Demons, Angst, Fluff, PG13 Love, Cursing, The Usual._**

 ** _Sorry this is so long, it ran away from me, but I ended up loving it. Thanks for reading!_**

* * *

Sam needed thirteen stitches to close his wound. Google said it should have been twenty, but when you argued with Dean he said, "He got what he got and that's good enough."

You wanted to help but the sight of the sewing needle piercing Sam's skin made you run to the bathroom and hug the toilet for a few minutes. Once Sam was patched up you floated back out into the room wiping your mouth with a washcloth. "God, how can you stand that?"

"That's nothing, it's worse when you have to do it to yourself." Sam answered, pulling his shirt down and falling down onto the bed.

"It's life or death Y/N. You don't do it, you die. Plain and simple." Dean said as he scooped the remains of the medical supplies into his duffle bag. "Winchesters don't do hospitals. How's your head?"

"Better," you smiled and touched the back of your head gingerly. "'Tis but a scratch."

Dean came over to you and took a look for himself, moving your hair out of the way to inspect your cut.

"I'm fine Dean," you whined, it still hurt a little bit, but you'd live.

"I just want to make sure. Saying 'I'm fine' around here usually means you aren't." He smiled and took your face in his hands, kissing your forehead.

"I'll live," you replied. Dean's lips moved down and kissed the tip of your nose, then further down to your lips. You sighed and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him down to you.

"I'm still awake guys," Sam moaned from the bed.

Dean pulled away and smirked, "Yeah, sorry Sammy." He looked down at you. "We should probably get some sleep." He brushed passed you, going into the bathroom "We're leaving bright and early tomorrow."

"Going?" You asked.

"Home baby, we're going home." He shut the door and you smiled to yourself: home. The Bunker. With Sam and Dean. Strange how less than two weeks ago this was all just stories in your head, forty-two minute episodes on a television series, and now here you were, full on living it. The reasons didn't matter to you anymore. You had what you always wanted: adventure, purpose, friendship, and Dean Winchester.

* * *

Sam was on the mend so the next few days were spent mostly vegging out in front of the big screen TV in his room.

"Are you serious?" He asked, appalled by your recent confession.

"I am Sam. I'm sorry," you replied, not actually sorry at all.

"How is that even possible? How can you sit there and tell me that with a straight face and not be embarrassed by it?" He pushed himself up on his pillow and stared at you, his hazel eyes wide with shock.

"I just...could never get into it. I'm sorry." You were lying in bed next to Sam, keeping him company while he clicked through Netflix.

"Go over to my shelf and get the box set down. You're watching it right now." He demanded, pointing to the shelf by his desk.

"No way. I do not want to watch it. I'm proud to be one of a few dozen people in the world that's never seen a single episode, and Sam Winchester is not gonna swoop in and take that away from me."

"I can't believe you. You've never seen Game of Thrones. Wow." He shook his head and frowned at you, completely disappointed.

"You can give me puppy dog eyes all you want, it's not gonna change my mind...Ouch!" As you spoke, a pain ripped through your chest like a flash of lightning.

"Ouch? What's wrong Y/N?" Sam sat up, wincing at his own pain as he did.

"I don't know, I... Oh my God!" Another stab of pain and your heart began beating very fast and irregular, skipping every other beat. Your pulse rang in your ears, blocking everything else out. "Sam... I can't... breathe..." your eyes were clouding over; the edges of your vision turning white.

Sam's hands were on your shoulders, his face in yours calling your name. You shook your head, trying to focus, but you were slipping; you felt something pulling you away, something dark but calm tugging at your heart.

"Dean!" Sam screamed for his brother, you saw the panic in his face as your eyes slowly closed; the pain and the darkness pulling you under. "Y/N! Stay awake! Y/N come on!"

* * *

You couldn't open your eyes. They were heavy and held down like something was stuck on them, keeping them shut. You couldn't move or speak or feel anything but a burning on your chest, two pads of white hot pain searing into your flesh on the left side of your body. You wanted to scream out but you had no control; nothing moved when you asked it too, your voice wasn't responding, there was nothing you could do but feel the pain and focus on it.

There were voices all around you, familiar but not, they spoke about you but not to you. You could make out little bits but nothing was cutting through the pain you felt; nothing was registering but the heat and the darkness.

"Y/N... please come back to me baby. Stay with us sweetheart, please..."

It was Dean. Dean was calling you back. You heard his voice over everything else, over the background noise and voices and pain. Dean. Go back to Dean. He'll protect you. Stay with Dean.

"Baby please..."

You gasped, drawing in as much air as you could as your eyes shot open. Your head was in Dean's lap; he sat on Sam's bed holding you, his face red and stained with faint tear tracks. "Dean?" You whispered as you looked up at him. He smiled and tightened his grip on your arms, hugging you to him.

"What happened baby?" he asked, rubbing his hand down your face. He needed to touch you, to know you were back and you were OK.

"I don't know. I couldn't breathe... was I… in a hospital?" You were confused and tired and your head was pounding harder than it ever had before.

Dean shook his head, "No baby, you were here. You didn't go anywhere." A fresh tear ran down his face. You caught it with two fingers and wiped it away. "You were out for a couple minutes."

"I'm OK. I think I'm OK." You sat up and took a deep breath. You weren't OK, but you didn't want to worry him anymore. Dean pulled you close, tightly winding his arms around you and tucking your head under his chin.

"Please don't leave me Y/N," he whispered.

"I won't Dean," you said against his chest, but you weren't sure if you could keep that promise; something was trying to get you, something was reaching out to you through this fantasy life and you were afraid it was going to catch you soon.

* * *

"I don't think it was a dream Sam, that's all I'm saying. It felt real." You were pacing the shiny waxed floors of the library. Sam was seated at a table with a sea of books laid out before him. He leaned on his elbows, watching your animated movements as you danced about the room. Dean had finally let you out of his sight while he went to go pick up dinner. You didn't want to talk about this in front of him; he got angry whenever you mentioned your situation or leaving.

"Do you think it was a vision? Or a memory maybe?" Sam sat back and crossed his arms, you could see him running all the information through his mind like a computer. Unlike Dean, he seemed interested in figuring out your situation. He wanted to listen to you, to help. He asked the right questions to get your brain working, get you back in the game to solve this puzzle.

"I've never had visions before, so I'll put that in the 'no' column. Then again, none of this," you gestured around the room, "has ever happened before so who knows. You think it could be like my future? That'd be nuts. I don't think I want to go there in that case. Ooh like the psychics in Lily Dale. That could be something. But I'm not psychic. Damn." You chewed on your thumb absentmindedly as you spoke, still pacing the outskirts of the room. "Oh shit. Oh shit Sam, do you think maybe I have demon blood in me too? And I'm like a Yellow-Eyed Psychic Kid? Oh shit Sam. It could be! He had other generations he said. Fuck. I don't wanna be a demon kid Sam. Shit!"

Sam chuckled, "I really don't think you have the demon blood in you Y/N." You stopped wandering and looked at him, your eyes full of worry. "Really. Besides all of that ended when Dean killed Azazel. It wouldn't still affect you."

"Damn, you're right. OK. So there goes that theory. Hmm… maybe I'm a witch!" You smiled, nodded at him. "Yeah. A natural witch, and my powers are finally coming to the surface. How 'bout that?"

"Do you practice witchcraft while we're not looking?"

"Well, no. But this one time when I was a kid we were supposed to go to this family picnic and I really didn't want to go and I stayed up all night praying for rain, and you know what…" you wagged your finger at Sam. "The next morning, it was pouring. It rained so bad our basement flooded. I always thought I magicked that. Maybe I'm a wizard." You bit your lip, happy with your latest idea. "Yeah, a wizard. Were you ever sorted into a House Sam? You're definitely a Ravenclaw, no doubt."

"Y/N…"

You didn't hear him call you and your rambling continued. "Dean's clearly a Gryffindor; I mean, come on. I always get sorted into Slytherin."

"Y/N…" Sam tried again to get you to stop.

"Well, except one time I got Hufflepuff, but I don't really agree with that. It's not that I have anything against Hufflepuffs, I just don't feel like that's where I…"

"Shut up!" Sam yelled. You snapped your mouth shut and stood up straight, looking at your friend like a scolded child.

"Sorry," you said meekly.

"I'm sorry. Listen, I don't think you're a witch or a wizard or a psychic. What we need to do is get some answers. I think we need to go talk to someone."

"Like who?"

"Like… Crowley."

You froze and looked at the tall hunter. He was serious. The thought of summoning the demon both intrigued and terrified you. You knew he could help, but did you really want to find out that way?

"You are not calling Crowley." Dean's voice rang out through the library. He appeared carrying a pizza and a six pack which he set down on the table across from Sam as he glared at his brother.

"Dean, we need help figuring this out." Sam said, exasperated to be having this conversation yet again.

"You agree with this?" The green-eyed man looked to you for an answer next.

"Well, I… yeah. I do. I mean he knows what's up. Seems stupid not to go him," you replied. Dean huffed loudly and shook his head.

"Why?"

"I have to go home Dean. You heard Crowley that night and I think it's becoming fairly obvious… I don't belong here." You looked down, afraid to see the disappointment and hurt in Dean's face. "This isn't right Dean. I'm sorry. And something's after me, I can feel it."

"Nothing's after you Y/N," he said, eyes filling with salt water as he looked at you.

"You don't know that Dean," Sam chimed in.

"I do. She's where she's supposed to be damn it!" Dean yelled over his shoulder at his brother, never taking his eyes off of you. "She's supposed to be here. With us."

You wanted him to be right, you really did. But it was getting harder to believe it.

"Y/N… please…" Dean begged you to listen to him, to drop your concern and return to him. You bit your lip hard, asking the pain to make the decision for you. You looked between them; at Sam, the voice of reason, the brains, the logical brother who wanted to help you get home. And then at Dean: the heart, the soul, the man you always knew you loved, the man you wanted, who wanted you, who needed you to stay.

"Y/N…" Dean's voice won out, finally breaking through the questions and you went to him. He opened his arms and you slid into them, pressing yourself against him, basking in the warm, safe feeling he provided as his hands locked around your back.

Sam threw his hands up, defeated, knowing he had lost you again to Dean. You closed your eyes and let Dean hold you. He was right; you were supposed to be here, why worry about anything else?

* * *

"You know, I gotta say, the water pressure in here is absolutely fan-fucking-tastic." You skipped happily into the kitchen and grabbed a mug to get some coffee. Your hair was wet, sticking in strings to your t shirt, leaving a huge dark spot on your back, but you didn't care. You woke up happily this morning, having slept through the night, not a single nightmare or phantom pain or disembodied voice bothering you at all. You poured the hot black coffee into your mug and held it to your lips, blowing gently on the steam.

Dean was watching you from across the room, waiting for the toaster to pop. He smiled at you, that big smile that filled his entire face, lighting up everything, drawing you in.

"You seem happy this morning," you said, teasing him gently as you set your mug down on the table.

"As do you," he said, licking his juicy pink lips. You watched his tongue dart out and your mind filled with intriguing yet unholy ideas. You crossed the floor slowly, tiptoeing towards him, making him wait for you.

He reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you into his arms as you squealed and kissed him. You sucked his plump bottom lip through yours and nibbled gently. Dean moaned against you, pressing his hips against yours. Your hands ran down his firm chest, lingering for a moment on the waistband of his jeans. You smiled against his lips and ran one finger underneath the denim, using your touch to seek out the big brass button that was keeping his treasure from you. You found it quickly and…

"Oh come on! I just want to get some toast." Sam barged in, halting your hand's travels into his brother's holy land. "You guys are getting to be disgusting. Can we keep it in the bedrooms please?"

"I dunno Sammy, does your bedroom count?" Dean asked, reluctantly letting you go.

Sam gave you both a very stunning bitch-face and brushed past you to claim the toast that had just popped out of the chrome appliance. "So I just got a call Jody. She caught wind of a case in her area; sounds like our kind of thing."

Sam gave you both a very stunning bitch-face and brushed past you to claim the toast that had just popped out of the chrome appliance. "So I just got a call from Jody. She caught wind of a case in her area; sounds like our kind of thing."

"I get to meet Jody?" You grinned and did a little excited dance. Sam rolled his eyes at you.

"Bunch of teens have taken turns flipping out and stabbing their mothers in the heart," he continued, plating his toast and walking with it towards the door.

"Sounds like us," Dean said.

"Totally," you agreed.

"Great, meet you at the car in ten." Sam walked out, not bothering to wait for an answer.

Dean's hands floated down to your hips and pulled you back against him. "Might want to make that fifteen!"

* * *

Sheriff Jody Mills was waiting at the diner when you arrived. Your legs were aching from the long car ride and you just wanted to go for a walk, but there was no time to rest. You followed the boys into the brightly lit restaurant, complaining as you stretched out your knee.

"Why is every case a fucking six hour car ride away? Can't you work closer to home? Shit."

Dean whipped a nasty look in your direction and you shut up. You were tired and cranky just from sitting in the backseat; you could imagine how he felt having done all the driving.

"There they are!" Jody stood up from her seat and opened her arms to Sam, hugging him tenderly. "Missed you guys," she said, moving on to Dean.

"Hey Jody," Sam replied.

She pulled away from Dean, one hand still on his shoulder and looked at you with a warm smile.

Dean reached for your hand and you took it, coming to stand next to him. "This is Y/N Y/L/N. She's uh..." Dean struggled to find the right words to explain your presence to his friend.

"She's working with us for a while," Sam stepped in to save his brother.

"I see," Jody said, looking between you and Dean and down to your interlaced hands. She nodded. "Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm Sheriff Mills, you can call me Jody."

You giggled and then coughed to hide your excitement. You pulled away from Dean and shook Jody's offered hand. "You're... awesome," you whispered. "I mean... it's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." You smiled awkwardly. On the drive over you had all agreed to hide the truth about your situation. It would be hard for you to lie they knew, but it would be easier than explaining yourself to everyone you met.

"OK, well why don't we get you guys some coffee," Jody motioned to the waitress behind the counter.

"Thank you!" You sighed and slid down into the booth.

"No thanks Jody, I think we should just get moving on this," Sam said. You groaned and climbed back to your feet, Dean secretly smirking at your theatrics. If nothing else you loved making him smile.

"Alright then, let's go." Jody led the way, she and Sam going over the details of the case as they left the diner. Dean waited for you, a precious grin plastered on his face.

"What's so funny?" you asked, annoyed with everyone for your lack of caffeine intake.

"You're adorable," he said simply.

"Yeah well, I better be, that's all I got goin' for me." You adjusted your shirt and tucked your hair behind you ear. "Ya'll are trying to kill me. I need a nap."

Dean put his arm around your shoulder as you took leave of the neon-coated dive. "Let's hurry through this case and then I'll take you to bed," he whispered in your ear.

"I said nap Dean," you scoffed. You wrapped an arm around his middle and snuggled close as you made your way to the car. If that was his plan, you were going to fly through this case as quickly as possible.

* * *

Not wanting to get in the way again, you spent most of the time on this case hanging back; quietly observing Jody and the boys as they worked. At first you were a little annoyed that you had nothing to do, but after a while you started to enjoy it. It was almost like watching an episode, except now when you offered a suggestion or an idea, they actually heard you and you weren't just a crazy person yelling at a television screen.

Everything seemed to boil down to simple demonic possession, but the strange part was that none of the teens had anything in common, and it wasn't building up to anything. It just looked like a demon on vacation having a little fun with the townsfolk.

Dean and Jody were off talking to the local Sheriff, so you and Sam walked Main Street trying to track down the girlfriend of the last teen murderer. Sam thought she might be able to shed some light on how the demon was choosing the kids, maybe there was some connection you couldn't see on the surface.

"Slow down Sam, you're walking too fast for me," You groaned, practically sprinting to keep up with the long-legged man. "Some of us aren't seven feet tall dude."

He stopped and waited for you to catch up, clearly annoyed.

"What's your problem? You've been nothing but nasty to me for days now," you complained, looking up at Sam with furrowed brows.

"It's nothing. Can we go?" He turned to keep walking but you grabbed his arm.

"Just a second there Moose!"

"Don't call me that please," he said, stopping to let you talk.

You nodded, "Yeah, sorry, that didn't feel right but I always wanted to say it." You laughed a little and then set your jaw, continuing on; "Now, tell me what's going on or I'll just take my ass back to the hotel. I'm too tired to be bitched at for no reason."

"It's just: we should be working on your case Y/N. But every time I try or talk to you about it, you get all glassy eyed and run to Dean. If you know our lives, then you know this isn't gonna end well for you. I'd rather get out ahead of the problem than sit back and let it get you first."

You blew out a deep breath and looked away. "You're right Sam, I'm sorry. He just... distracts me and then I forget all about the bad stuff." Your eyes fell on a tall blonde girl across the street. "Hey...hey... that's the girl, isn't it? Across the street? Going into that shop..."

Sam followed your finger as you pointed and he nodded, "Nice work. Come on." He jogged across the street and you sighed forcing your tired legs to move and run after him. Couldn't he ever just meander slowly?

You burst into the shop behind Sam, a cluster of bells ringing as the door opened. You looked around and laughed; it was a friggin psychic shop. The walls and windows were draped in darkly colored fabrics of all different patterns, some with long golden tassels on the edges. The lights were dim and the air was smoky, the scents of rose and sandalwood rising from cones of incense set around the room. It stunk and you scrunched up your nose trying not to sneeze. The shop was empty except for a few chairs set up like a waiting room. Sam followed the girl through a dark brown beaded curtain at the rear of the store and you followed him, a few feet behind.

Behind the curtain was more stereotypical junk, a small round table sat in the middle of a dark room, a large opaque crystal ball at it's center. You laughed and looked at Sam, "Is this for real?"

"Just wait here Y/N," he said, ducking through another curtained doorway and leaving you alone in the candlelit room. You spun around slowly, looking at the walls, wondering who would ever come in here honestly looking for help.

You heard the beads clinking together and you turned to see an older woman step into the room. She was dressed like a fortune teller; looking like she walked right off of a circus poster. You stifled another laugh and smiled awkwardly at the woman, trying to come up with a reason you were standing unannounced in her place of business.

"Hi there... I'm um..." You reached into your jacket and fumbled for your badge, of course it was stuck. "Special Agent... um... Swift..." Damn, it was really jammed in there. Where was Sam?

The woman held up her hand for you to stop talking, "Y/N, I've been waiting for you."

"Holy fuck... what now?" You asked, shocked as the gypsy-looking woman knew your name.

"Of course... I knew you were coming today." She moved to the table slowly and took a seat. She motioned for you to take the other chair. "Please sit."

"Yeah... I'd rather not," You said, craning your neck to try and see through the curtain, looking for Sam.

The woman insisted harshly, "Please. Sit."

"All right..." you cautiously took the empty chair, abandoning your attempt to remove your badge. You lay your hands on the table and leaned forward, looking curiously at the strange lady. "Just so you know, I don't go in for all this fortune-telling crap. No offense. I mean, this is your gig and all, but you gotta believe it for it to work, right? And all I'm saying is I don't. Well, there was this one time my friend Katie and I did an Ouija Board in high school, but I really think it was all her because I asked the spirit..."

Gypsy Woman cleared her throat and you shut your mouth, ceasing your anxious rambling. "Give me your hand," she said, laying her hands open on the table.

You looked down at her hands and shivered. That was probably the last thing you wanted to do, but you thought maybe she might be able to give you some information. And Sam was right, you needed to focus on your case too. Slowly you lay your right hand in her left, palm to palm, and took a deep breath.

"Now what?" You asked.

Suddenly the woman flipped her hand over and grabbed your wrist tightly. You gasped and looked up as her brown eyes transformed instantly into the black, dark soulless eyes of a demon.

"What the fuck!" You yelled, pulling at your arm, trying to wrench your hand away.

"Sit still girl, I've got you now. And Crowley will be so pleased. You were a happy bonus on this assignment." She growled.

"Sam!" you yelled, praying he was close enough to hear you.

The demon rose up from her chair and stood over you, her yellow teeth bared in a snarl. "Can you imagine how happy I was to see that stupid Impala roll into town?" She cackled and you smiled as you saw Sam appear behind her and brought his pistol down across the back of her head. The demon released you and fell over, unconscious. You looked up at Sam, panting. "What the hell is going on?" you yelled, catching your breath.

"We're about to find out," he answered, and pushed the table away towards the wall. "Go find me some paint or chalk or something."

"Oh snap, are we gonna torture a demon? That's so awesome. I gotta tell you, I have been practicing my Latin and I think you'll be quite impressed. There's only a few things I'm not too..."

"Y/N, please! Go find some paint."

You rolled your eyes and dramatically pushed the beaded curtain aside as you went on your assigned search.

* * *

You helped Sam paint the Devil's Trap right onto the old oriental rug that lay underneath the Gypsy's table. The only paint you had been able to find was a light purple color and it made you laugh the entire time. Sam was not amused, but he did compliment your skill as you painted the sigil. "Well it is my phone's lock screen," you shrugged.

"Why would you put that on your phone?" he asked as he tied the demon to her chair.

"Well I... I'm not sure really. It just looks cool. I have a mug with it too. Also not sure why." You pondered that for a moment and then laughed, "Ain't no demon gonna steal my coffee!"

The demon woke up then, as if on cue and growled, pulling hard against the ropes that held her in place. "You think this is gonna hold me?"

"It should bitch, painted it myself!" You shouted, pumped up and full of yourself. The demon flashed her black eyes at you and your cowered, instantly losing your attitude and arrogance.

Sam stepped forward and held a knife out, showing it to the demon. "You know what this is?" he asked her.

"Ruby's knife!" you squeaked. This was getting more awesome by the moment.

Sam glared at you and you shut your mouth tight, forcing your hands down to your sides. You held his flask full of holy water tightly in one hand.  
He turned back to his captive and ran the tip of the blade down her face, cutting into her vessel. She screamed as the blood began to flow. "You said you knew my friend here," Sam nodded towards you, keeping his eyes on the beast. "How? Why is she here? And why does your boss want her?"

The demon laughed in his face, "I'm not gonna tell you Winchester."

Sam stepped back and looked at you. You flicked your wrist towards the demon, sending a rain of holy water down on her head. She screamed as the water burned face. "I suggest you talk bitch, I've seen what this dude can do, and it's never pretty." You spoke with as much edge as you could, trying to ignore the fear lurking in your gut, telling you to step back and let Sam do the work here.

The demon spat at you and you backed away. "So kill me, it won't help you at all. Crowley will still come for you and that'll be that."

Sam cut into her again and again she laughed. He turned to you, "Go ahead then," he said and you smiled wildly, so ready for the next part.

You took a deep breath and began reciting the excorsim ritual you'd memorized so long ago. "Ex-tore-che-amouse day! Omnis imm..."

"Exorcizamus Te," Sam interrupted, correcting your pronunciation.

The demon laughed and twisted in her seat, trying again to loosen her restraints.

"That's what I said Sam," you sneered at him and began again, using his corrections. "Exorcizamus te... Omnis Amoon-dose..."

"Immundus."

"You wanna let me do this or what?" you yelled, turning to Sam and puffing out your chest in aggravation.

"You suck Y/N. You're not a hunter, just a dead little girl playing a game." The demon's black eyes cut straight through you, striking a chord; hitting upon the nagging feeling you've had since you met the Winchesters.

"Dead little girl?" You summoned every bit of hate and rage inside of you and balled it up into a fist, letting it collide with the demon's jaw. She barely flinched from the contact, laughing at you even harder. You splashed more holy water on her and smiled as she roared in pain; the sanctified liquid searing her flesh.

You began again with renewed vigor and determination: "Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus..."

"Doesn't matter, this isn't real. How can you send me back to Hell when we're already there? This is Hell."

"Don't listen to him Y/N." Sam encouraged you as you continued the ritual.

"Omnis Satanica Potestas, Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii..."

"You're dead Y/N... this is all a lie. Me, Sam... Dean... none of it is real."

You stopped speaking. Your eyes locked with the demon's. You clenched your jaw and tried to hide the hurt she'd dealt you with her words.

"Y/N!" Sam called your name and you turned to him, grabbing the knife from his hand and jamming it into the demon's chest. You held it there, watching as the orange glow crackled through her body; a look of shock forever frozen on her dark face.

You withdrew the blade and wiped the red mess off on the gypsy's dress and handed it carefully back to Sam. You gave him an innocent little smile and said thanks.

Sam recoiled, slightly creeped out by your expression. "Wow Y/N, you are kind of a badass," he said, giving you a well-deserved slap on the back.

"Thanks Sam," you said. "Learned it from watching you." You laughed and shut your eyes, trying to center yourself and calm your nerves. You just killed a demon. Holy shit. Y/N: One, Demon Scum: Zero.


	8. When You Call an Angel

_**A/N: Chapter Warnings: Cussing, still. Angsty A.F., excessive drinking. Mature Sexy Talk? I guess. Yeah.**_

 _ **Thanks for sticking with me on this one! I think we're drawing to the close. a few more I think. :( 3**_

* * *

The thing you have to understand about the Winchesters is that there always seems to be an ample supply of booze around. Sure Dean packs that little green hard-sided cooler with beer, but he also hides bottles of whiskey in the car, so when he's ready for a break or, like tonight, to celebrate and doesn't feel like dealing with crowds at a bar, he pulls out a fresh bottle and goes at it in the motel. Luckily tonight you were invited to join him. You were, after all, celebrating the fact that you had found and killed a demon thereby solving the case. Sam had relayed the story to Dean and Jody, sparing no detail about your bravery and ruthlessness as you stabbed the possessed woman through the heart. Jody eyed you with new-found respect, earning you a spot in her circle of mutual bad-ass women. Dean beamed with pride and threw his arm around your shoulder as the four of you headed back to the motel to relax and drink the night away.

The other thing you have to understand about the Winchesters is, there is no way in hell that you can ever drink as much as they do and still be able to form coherent sentences or stand on your own two feet. You should have learned this already from your previous jaunts to the bar, but you were cocky and happy and clearly forgot.

As the night went on, you felt honestly that this might be the best night of your life. Here you were, hanging out with Jody, Sam, and Dean in a shitty motel, drunk as fuck, listening to them regale you with hunting stories and anecdotes from the road. It was amazing. You asked stupid questions and they answered. You asked them all the things you'd always been curious about and amazingly they didn't seem to mind giving you the answers you desired. You did end up explaining your unique situation to Jody after you had asked her about something that you couldn't have possibly known about. She seemed amazingly cool with it; you figured after you come to terms with monsters and Angels being real, you could wrap your head around pretty much anything.

"Yeah but listen," you said drunkenly as you continued your slurred line of questioning. "Where do you keep getting the Holy Oil from? It's like a magic jug that never runs out. Cas had to go all the way to wherever-the-fuck to get it the first time and now you just have it? How's that work? And how the hell do you always manage to draw perfect circles? I can't even do that if I'm tracing! That's something that's truly amazing. Yeah you've been to Hell and Purgatory and Heaven and whatever, but ya'll are like perfect circle artists. That's unbelievable." You hiccupped and laughed at yourself.

"I think you need some food my dear," Dean said, standing up from his seat by the door and kissing your cheek.

"I'm...fine," you sloppily kissed him back, missing his lips entirely.

He took the plastic cup of whiskey out of your hand and set it down on the table. "Sammy, join me for a taco run? I saw a food truck up the street a ways."

"Sure," Sam grabbed his coat and waited by the door.

"Tacos?" you asked, your arm still tight around Dean's neck.

"Yeah, you like tacos don't you?"

"I do, but..." You lowered your eyes and whispered sadly, "It's Tuesday. You can't eat tacos on Tuesday Dean."

"Taco Tuesday's not a thing in your world?" He laughed.

"Yeah... it is, but... _Tuesday_." You said again, trying to convey your concern with no luck. "'Do these tacos taste funny to you?'" You quoted him.

He stared at you and smiled, "I have no idea what you're talking about. But we'll be right back. Anyway, it's 1 a.m. so technically it's Wednesday." He pecked your lips and slipped out of your grasp.

"Well then carry on my wayward…you know. Go get some tacos!" The door shut and you went back to the table to retrieve your cup.

Jody sat on the floor, her back against one of the beds; you slipped down carefully beside her and let your head fall back against the mattress.

"I might... be drunk," you said with a laugh.

"I think that's an understatement," Jody replied, taking a sip of her beer. "So how are you feeling?" She asked, turning her head towards you.

You sat up and thought for a second. You decided upon the most accurate description as your answer and replied, "Drunk."

"No, I mean, with all this," she gestured around the room. "With being here. If your story is true, you're inside a TV show. That would freak me out, and I've seen some things."

You bit your lip and pondered. "Yeah, I mean, I was at first. I still am I guess, I get really excited sometimes, as Sam will tell you. They're probably beyond annoyed at me for that, but it is exciting. I guess I'm just so freaked out it doesn't bother me anymore. Like, I flat out murdered someone today. Sure there was a demon inside her, but we could have finished the exorcism. I got so mad I stabbed her in the heart like a crazy person. I should be cowering in a corner crying my eyes out and begging for forgiveness, but I'm like, OK with it." You shrugged. "I guess I'm just going with the flow. Saving people, stabbing things, ya know, the family business."

Jody smiled, "Well I give you a lot of credit, I spent more than a few hours after I met the Winchesters crying in a corner."

"No way, you're like a super bad-ass. Everyone loves you Jody."

She laughed, "Well even so, it's sometimes a lot to deal with."

You nodded and finished your drink. You looked around and saw the bottle of whiskey across the room. Slowly you crawled over to it; you were already this far gone, what was another shot...or four? You had just killed someone after all.

"And what about Crowley being after you? Any idea what that's about?" Jody asked as you crawled back to your spot.

"Nah. It does seem to be an interesting plot line, but I don't know why. Maybe I have magic powers or something. Who knows?" You poured some liquid into your cup and took a drink. "Speaking of Crowley...dude, you went on a date with him!" You laughed.

Jody blushed, "Well, he did try to kill me, so it wasn't a good date. Sadly not my worst." She laughed.

"Yeah but, like, you got to the bar and saw him and was like 'Oh yeah, sexy British dude'... eww."

"Hey! I hadn't been on a date in a while. And he's cute." She brought her beer bottle to her lips, "He's an evil fuck, but cute."

You laughed loudly. "Oh my god, that's so funny." You sighed. "I always thought you and Bobby were gonna hook up. That woulda been awesome. I miss Bobby."

"Me too. He was great."

"Yeah. He was a little old for you though, but it could have worked." You took a drink, "Oh...and you and Sam!"

Jody's head snapped around, "What do you mean me and Sam?"

You giggled into your cup. "I read a thing that said they were gonna write you and Sam a love scene in _'Time After Time'_ but they cut it. That woulda been... strange."

"What's _'Time After Time'_?" she asked, looking at you curiously, her face red with thoughts of Sam.

"Oh, sorry. That time that Dean got sucked back to the 1940s and you were helping Sam? Oh my god- that suit on Dean... ooooh... with the cuff links and the coat and the hair all slicked down and the... damn it's hot in here isn't it?" You fanned yourself dramatically with your hand.

Jody laughed at you again, "I have no idea what you're talking about Y/N."

"No one ever does Jody!" You put your head back against the bed again, dreaming of Dean in that suit. Damn. "He is so sexy," you said quietly.

"Dean?"

"Yes Dean. Where have you been? Have you seen him?"

"Yes I have. He's cute."

"He's not cute, he's...incredible. Sometimes I just stare at him; which is pretty much what I used to do at home, except now it's in person and not just pictures." You sighed. "He's so amazing."

"Can I ask you something?" Jody said, her voice low and secretive. "How is he... in bed?" She smiled wildly and you laughed.

"Oh sister, he is... Think of the best sex you've ever had; like, in your entire life, the absolute best. Got it?" Jody nodded. "Now throw that away because it's nothing compared to being with Dean."

"Hmm. That's a glowing recommendation."

"He's so amazing. It's like he's in your head; you want to tell him to do something, but he's already doing it before you can fully form the thought." You ran your hand down your face, wiping away a bead of sweat. "We did it in the Impala one night." You giggled and covered your mouth. "Well, one afternoon, well, it was lunchtime. But oh my god, it was everything I've ever imagined. So good. And can I tell you about his tongue?" You rambled on, Jody hanging on every word. "His tongue is magical. The things he can do with that mouth should be illegal. He does this one thing where..."

The door opened and the boys returned, stopping your words before they continued spilling out. You turned red and hid your face in your arm.

"Talking about me?" Dean asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

"No... never." Jody covered for you.

Dean laughed and threw a bag of food on the table. You stood up quickly to go to him and wobbled a bit, way more inebriated that you had thought. Your head spun and you started to fall forward. Dean rushed to your side and put his hands on your waist to steady you.

"You OK Y/N?" he laughed, smiling warmly at you.

You looked up into his green eyes and smiled, "Mmmm Hmmm…" You lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him down into a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue met yours and you shook as a ripple of pleasure ran down through you. You moaned unconsciously into his mouth and pressed yourself against him. You were so beyond drunk you didn't care or even remember that you were not alone.

Sam plopped down on the bed opposite Jody and sighed, rolling his eyes as his brother's hands roamed your body.

Jody laughed and looked towards the solo hunter, "They always like this?"

Sam nodded, "Worse."

Jody eyed Sam, raising a flirtatious eyebrow, remembering what you had said about them having a love scene. "Kinda makes you want to…"

"Kill them?" Sam snapped. "Yeah, it does." Jody shrugged and went back to her beer, a little disappointed that her meaning was lost on Sam. He didn't seem to realize anything had happened and picked up a pillow, throwing it at you and Dean. "Get a room!"

Dean turned and glared at his brother "We got a room… You… get a… room!" he said awkwardly.

"Sick burn baby," You joked, laughing at his retort. You loved when Dean was out of insults; he was so cute sometimes. Well, all the time really. Every tiny little thing about him was so adorable and sexy and perfect and all you wanted to do was bask in the warm, sensual air around him. You ignored Sam's admonishments and pulled Dean's lips back to yours. "Maybe we should get another room," you whispered, sliding your tongue across his bottom lip.

Dean pulled away suddenly and picked up his jacket again. "I'll be right back!" he said, reaching for the door.

"Where are you going?" You asked, crossing your arms and pouting at him.

"To get another room!" he nodded quickly and took off for the lobby.

You spun around and smiled, slightly embarrassed but not really caring. You sighed and sat down on the bed next to Jody. "I'm telling you girl… that tongue…" You said, continuing your speech from before.

Sam groaned and fell back onto the bed, burying his head underneath the pillows. "No…" he moaned, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

* * *

Saying goodbye to Jody the next morning was sad. You really liked her and you didn't know why but you got the feeling that this was the last time you would ever see her. Still you kept a bright smile on your face and hugged her warmly, promising to call her if anything should come up that required her help whether it be police work or girl talk.

The ride home was…not pleasant. Despite the greasy breakfast and gallon of coffee you had consumed before you left you felt as if your brain was trying to escape out of your ears. The constant rocking and jostling in the backseat was turning your stomach, and while you were determined not to puke in the Impala, you weren't sure you'd make it all the way home.

"You don't look so good Y/N," Dean said, eyeing you in the rearview.

"Shut up Dean," you moaned, clutching your head and forcing yourself to sit upright and as still as possible.

"No offense, you just look a little green."

"No, shut up. Your voice is ripping my skull open."

"Hungover?" Sam yelled loudly, his voice booming over the seats and slamming into your head.

"I will kill you. I can do that now, you saw me." You gave up trying to be cool and laid down across the seat, hugging your knees and trying to relax. The boys laughed at your weak constitution but thankfully kept their voices and radio down for the remainder of the trip.

You stared at the back of Dean's seat. You followed the cracks in the black leather with your eyes, trying to determine where they each began and ended. Eventually you tucked your arm under your head and began to drift off, being lulled once again to sleep by the groan of the massive engine.

"Y/N…"

There it was again, that voice that called to you whenever you were almost asleep. It didn't scare you anymore, you were almost waiting for it today; waiting to hear it so you could really listen this time and try to figure out what it was.

"Y/N…Sweetpea, can you hear me?"  
"Yes," you whispered into the air, not loud enough so the boys could hear you. You kept your eyes sealed shut, afraid to break the spell if you moved. "I can hear you." You tried again, but there was no answer. Maybe you could hear them, but they couldn't hear you. And who was it, anyway? No one called you Sweetpea. No one but…

"You gonna sleep in here all day or you wanna come inside?" Dean was standing above your head in the open door. He leaned over, his arm on the roof of the Impala. He gazed down at you with a loving smile, trying to wake you up gently.

You blinked and sat up slowly, you were back in the garage, safe, home. The voice faded away as you looked around, coming back to yourself. You smiled up at Dean and took his hand as he helped you climb out of the backseat.

"How's your head?" He asked, shutting the door behind you.

"Better, I just needed to sleep."

Dean threw his arm around you and kissed your cheek. "I'm glad. I don't like seeing you sick."

"I'll be fine Dean," you kissed him back and smiled. "I like you a lot you know that?"

He looked down at you with a beaming smile, his face was consumed with it and it made you laugh to see him so happy. "I like you a lot too."

* * *

The next few days flew by without incident. There were no cases and nothing to do, so you helped out where you could. In the mornings you got up early and made breakfast, then helped Sam in his attempt to reorganize and catalogue a newfound storage room. Afternoons however were all about Dean. Some days he would take you driving; you rode around with no destination, just driving to drive. The wind would blow through the open windows and you'd hold each other's hand, content just to be together. Other days you wouldn't go anywhere but to bed and you'd spend the evening hours making each other blush; hands and eyes and lips exploring everything.

* * *

There was that song again. It was so loud it sounded like the speakers were cracking. What band was that? It was on the tip of your tongue. Hannah was driving, speeding down the dark street. Your window was down and the hot summer breeze was slapping you in the face, whipping your hair all around. Hannah was laughing, singing along to the radio, banging her head with the music. Was that KISS? It sounded like KISS, but you didn't know the song. It was so loud, you reached over and turned the dial to lower the volume.

"Hands off!" Hannah laughed, swatting your hand away.

"It's making my ears bleed!" You yelled back.

"If it's too loud, you're too old Y/N/N!"

You laughed, "At least put something else on. I can't stand KISS." You pulled your hair out of your mouth and twisted it behind your back, hoping to keep it out of your eyes.

Hannah shook her head, looking at you. "Who the hell doesn't like KISS? And besides, you know what your boy says: 'Driver picks the music… shotgun'…"

" 'Shuts his cake hole'… I know!" You rolled your eyes. How dare she quote _Supernatural_ to shut you up. That was your gig.

Hannah sang even louder, screeching over the stereo. You looked away from her, out the window. You were pretty far from your house, just passing the train tracks and the old warehouse behind the high school. You closed your ears with two fingers and looked back at your friend who was dancing like a fool. She turned to you and gave you the rock and roll devil horns, sticking out her long tongue behind them.

A beeping horn ripped through the music, calling Hannah's attention back to the road. She gripped the wheel, turning it furiously.

Headlights.

Tires screeching, burning on the asphalt.

You were spinning, screaming, hands braced against the dashboard.

The warehouse flew past your window again.

Hannah's voice ringing through the car, shrieking as she tried to right the car.

* * *

You woke up alone in Dean's bed. Your breath was coming out in quick heavy waves. You couldn't draw it in fast enough to settle your nerves. You were shaking, crying, soaking the pillow with your tears. You bit down on your lip hard and pressed your face into the mattress, trying to calm yourself down. It was just a dream.

But no, it wasn't a dream at all.

Quickly you got up and searched the room for your clothes. You couldn't find your shirt so you pulled on Dean's discarded red flannel. It hung down past your thighs and completely covered your hands, but it was warm and smelled like Dean. You pulled on your jeans and sneakers and ran through the Bunker. You needed… you weren't sure what you needed but you needed to get out. You needed air. Why were there no windows in here? Probably because you were underground. Shit. The compound was dark and quiet, you weren't sure where the boys were, but you weren't looking for them anyway. You needed to see the sky and feel the cool night air on your face.

You bolted from the Bunker, climbing the few stairs to get you back to street level and took off, running through the trees, looking for some clarity. It was late evening, but the sun hadn't completely set. The golden and pink hues of twilight filtered through the trees as you walked, unsure of direction or goal.

It was a dream wasn't it? And the voices and ghosts and déjà vu were just your brain playing tricks on you…right? You had to believe it was because the alternative wasn't something you wanted to admit to yourself just yet. Because you knew once you did, this would all be over. And couldn't it just go on a little bit longer? You weren't ready yet. You needed to be here. But you also needed to know the truth. As much as you loved him, you were tired of Dean ignoring your problem. It was time.

You stopped in a small clearing and ran your hands through your hair, deciding your next move.

You closed your eyes and turned your face to the sky. Quietly you sent your words up to the heavens, hoping to catch the attention of the one person you knew could help you.

"Dear… Castiel, who art… a fictional character. Shit, what the fuck are you doing Y/N?" You shook your head, trying to convince yourself that this wasn't a stupid idea, and began again. "Dear Castiel… what does Dean always say?... Right… Hey Cas, hope you got your ears on buddy!" You bit your lip. "No that sounds even worse. Ok, here goes," you took a deep breath and chose your words carefully. "Castiel, if you can hear me that'd be great. My name's Y/N and, well, I could use your help. I…I'm kinda stuck here, and it's been great, but I'm getting worried that maybe it's not where I'm supposed to be." You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you confessed. "I think it might be time…to get this figured out, and I was hoping maybe you could swoosh down here and give me some direction. If you can, I mean, if you're not busy. You're probably busy, I mean, you're an Angel. I'm sure you have better things to do than to listen to prayers of people you don't know. But if you are listening, I'd really appreciate a look in." You wiped your eyes and looked around, turning slowly like they always did on the show, waiting to hear that blessed, hopeful sound of wings flapping.

The only thing you heard was Dean. "You even ramble when you pray. That's funny," he said, slowly walking towards you.

"How long have you been standing there?" You asked, brushing away the last of your tears with your sleeve.

"Long enough," he said, moving closer to you. He reached out and brushed a stray clump of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. You leaned into his hand, needing the feel of him. "You're not really ready to leave me are you Y/N?"

You looked up into his perfect green eyes, the eyes that had been described a million times in a thousand different ways, from jade to emerald to forest green. You couldn't come up with a color to describe them now; the way the fading sunset struck the lustrous pigment, taking your breath away with their beauty. How could you put this into words? How could you want to leave these eyes? Or these lips that brushed over your skin at night, sending you into an ocean of bliss? Or these hands that held you so gently yet tightly; these arms that wrapped around you and cocooned you in warm, musky safety. How could you want to leave this man? This man that was everything you ever wanted and more; more because he was so much more than just a pretty face, more than just a quick talker with a witty mind; he was…everything. A hero, a brother, a savior, a righteous man. He was Dean Winchester, and he was the most amazing person you'd ever known.

"Dean, I…" Your mouth fell closed again, what could you say?

"Y/N, I love you."

Your heart swelled and ached in the same instant. So amazed and happy to hear those words tumble from his mouth; but so scared of what was happening to you.

"I love you too Dean, you know that." You pulled his hand off of your face and held it in your hands. You bowed your head and kissed his knuckles. "I just have to figure this out. It's killing me. I need help. I need Cas to show up and explain this to me. I'm sorry, I know you don't want me too, but it's time."

Of all the faces you'd seen him make, this one was the worst; it broke your heart into a thousand pieces. He looked away, thinking about what you said; hurt and confused.

How could you do this to him? Didn't he deserve to be happy too? You made him happy, didn't you?

"Dean… I'm sorry." You pulled his face back to yours. "Please. Let's just… go back inside and forget about this. Cas isn't coming anyway. He didn't hear me. OK?" You smiled up at him, trying to get him to smile again. "Let's try your plan again, huh? Remember? Kiss me and forget about this? Let's do that. I wanna do that."

You didn't wait for him to answer, you reached up and put your hands on either side of his face, forcing him down to you. You kissed him gently at first, and then when he didn't respond, harder. You pressed all your fear and worry and hope and love into the kiss, just trying to get him to understand how fucked up you were and how much you did need him. Finally, he softened. He wrapped his arms around you and held on, kissing you back with greedy thrusts of his tongue into your waiting mouth. Yes, Dean was back. Forget the trench-coated angel. Forget your visions and voices. All you needed was this. And that was enough for now.


	9. When You Face The Demon

_**A/N: Chapter Warnings: Cursing, Mild Violence towards Reader, Angst, Sadness, Tears...**_

* * *

Dean wouldn't let you go. He all but carried you to his bed and locked you in both the room and his arms. The rest of the night was spent quietly lying with him, talking about nothing important, never bringing up your prayer to Castiel. You let him distract you with his kisses and hands and whispers; you made love slowly until you were so wrapped up in Dean you couldn't think of anything else. You sank into him, into the feeling and idea of him; you never wanted it to end. Afterwards you lay holding him, his head on your shoulder for once, and you ran your hands through his short hair rubbing his head; he kept his strong arm draped heavily across your middle, locking you to him.

"I'm so happy Y/N," he sighed against you; his breath was hot and tickled your naked skin.

You smiled and ran your free hand across his unshaven cheek. "I know Dean. Me too," you said, and you meant it. You were incredibly happy. You had everything you'd ever dreamed of: your fantasy was real, you had Dean as your lover, you had Sam as your friend, you had adventure and drama and angst and fluff and smut and all the things you loved to read and write about. It was all here; it was all for you.

But again that nagging itch inside clawed at you; reminding you that it wasn't real, it couldn't be.

Dean fell asleep long before you. You listened as he breathing became slow and deep; you rested your hand on his head and snuggled close to him. You kissed his forehead and closed your eyes, unwillingly letting loose a stream of tears. Trying not to wake him, you turned carefully away and cried silently into your pillow. You controlled yourself, shaking only slightly as the sobs ran through you. You scooted to the edge of the bed away from him and wrapped yourself in your own arms; trying to contain your sadness. Dean's fingers reached for you, pulling you back to him; even in his dreams he didn't want to release you. You were his; and he wasn't letting go any time soon.

Morning came quickly; you had managed to fall asleep after a long while, Dean's gentle snoring finally entrancing you and sending you off into blessed darkness. There were no dreams tonight. There was nothing but blackness; the voices and visions stayed away, as if they knew they were no longer needed. When you woke Dean was still out cold so you gingerly slipped out of his grasp and dressed as quietly as you could, sneaking out into the hallway and out of your happy diversion.

Sam was already up and actively wandering around the Library. You stood in the archway and leaned against the stone wall just watching him. It seemed this place was built around him, he fit in so perfectly. The last of the American Men of Letters, the legacy. If Dean was pure hunter, a true Campbell descendant, then Sam was all Winchester. He was meant for this life of books and secrets and powerful knowledge. You smiled as you watched him grab four large books off of a shelf and drop them onto the table. He could stay there forever, you thought, with his nose in a book. You laughed and it caught his attention. Sam looked up and smiled at you.

"Morning," he said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "How you feeling?"

"I'm OK Sam. Thanks."

The tall man leaned over and pulled out the chair at the end of the table, gesturing for you to sit with him. You nodded and obliged, letting yourself sink into the hard wooden chair as best you could. "Whatcha working on?" You asked, looking over at the pile of books he'd collected.

Sam looked over to them as well, "Uh… you actually," he confessed and looked back to you to gauge your reaction. You didn't say anything, you simple gave a tiny nod and looked away. "Sorry, it just feels like you want to start looking again."

"I do Sam, thank you. I do. I actually called Castiel last night." You sighed deeply and looked into his hazel eyes. They were sad and concerned and so… Sam.

"Really?" he said. "Did he…"

"No, he didn't show up. Your brother kinda found me and…"

"Distracted you," he finished for you. He gave you a sad smile.

"Yeah. He does that really well." You looked down at your hands and started picking at a nail, trying not to let loose again, but you could feel the tears reemerging.

Sam leaned forward and held his hand open. You sat up and let him take your hand in his. He closed both of his giant hands around yours and squeezed reassuringly. "It's gonna be OK Y/N. I promise."

"I know Sam; I'm just really scared." You felt your face grow wet and you shook your head. "Goddamn it I can't stop crying. This sucks."

Sam gave a small smile and then his eyes lit up and he released your hand. "Oh, I have something I think you'll want to see." He said, standing up and running into the other room.

"Sam, what are you doing?" You called after him as he disappeared around the corner. You turned around and sat back, letting your head fall back as you looked up at the ceiling.

Less than a minute later you head Sam's footsteps behind you. "Close your eyes," he teased as he approached.

You did as he asked and you heard him place something down on the table in front of you. You opened your eyes slowly and a wide smile spread across your face. It was John's journal. "Oh my god, for real?" You looked up at Sam excitedly, a tiny bit of your fangirl enthusiasm returning.

"Go ahead. I don't know why you didn't ask to see it before; seems like something you'd want to look at," He shrugged and took his seat again next to you.

"Oh Sam. This is too awesome," you spoke softly, as if you were in the presence of a holy artifact that demanded special reverence. Very gently you ran your fingers down over the soft leather cover and picked it up, just holding it in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It was heavy, overstuffed with scraps of paper and photos, news clippings and worn pages. You ran your hand over the edges and felt a paperclip sticking out. You laughed as you touched it, remembering the very first episode when Dean had pulled it out and used it to free himself from a set of handcuffs.

"Open it already; it's just a book," Sam was watching you, hoping this would bring you out of your sadness for now.

You smiled up at him knowingly, "Sam, this is not just a book. This is the key. How much history and knowledge is in this journal? How many hours did your father spend pouring himself into the pages? This book is your guide."

Sam laughed gently and looked away, going back to his own books. "Never thought of it like that I guess," he said.

Without further ceremony you set the journal back down and peeled back it's closure, smiling with wide happy eyes as you dove in. You devoured each page, scanning the articles, memorizing the drawings, lovingly feeling the depressions in the paper from John's pen with your fingertips. It was amazing.

When you came to the end you closed the cover and took a deep breath. "Sam," your voice cracked, still fighting the tears you knew would return again too soon.

He looked up and waited, his smile was warm and patient.

"I'm ready…to try calling Cas again." You blinked, unsure of exactly when you had made that decision.

"I figured you might be," Sam said. He pushed his book away, letting the cover fall closed, and sat forward, closer to you. "So go ahead. Give him a ring."

You nodded, agreeing more for yourself than for Sam. You closed your eyes and bowed your head as you began, "Dear Castiel, 'sup? It's me again. I…uh… well… if you're around, I'm ready to talk, if you can…" You squeezed your eyes tightly, waiting and hoping to hear his arrival. Sam seemed to hold his breath too and for a moment a blanket of silence settled around you both.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Dean's voice ripped through the blanket and echoed throughout the room. You jumped up, startled, and faced him. He stood a few feet away from you; his face was red and his mouth was in a long, hard line. He clenched his jaw as he looked at you, waiting for an answer.

"I… I'm just trying to get some answers Dean, that's all," You stammered, not sure how to appease him any longer.

"You're trying to leave," he said. His words slammed into you; you could feel how upset he was, how hurt.

Sam stood up and walked over so he was standing by your side. He held his hands out to his brother and spoke as if he were trying to calm a child having a tantrum. "Dean, there's no harm in talking to Cas. And its Y/N's choice."

"Isn't this what you always wanted? Haven't I given you everything? Haven't all your dreams come true?" He asked, ignoring his brother and staring you down angrily. You didn't answer, "Haven't they?" he yelled.

"Dean… you know this is wrong. You have to know that…" You fought back; not willing to let him distract you again. "Please… please understand, it's not you."

Dean didn't speak, he didn't look at you, he stood still, staring at the wall just to the left of you. You moved over and tried to catch his eye, but he moved away, turning on his heels and heading out of the room.

Your heart sank as you watched him leave. But he wasn't just leaving the room; you heard his boots striking the metal stairs as he ran to the bunker's main door. He was leaving. You looked at Sam and then took off, chasing after Dean. He had to listen to reason, didn't he?

"Dean!" You called to him, hoping to stop him before he left. He was faster than you and you knew you wouldn't be able to catch him if he didn't want you too.

You reached the bottom of the stairs as the door slammed shut. "Fuck, Dean!" You called to him but he was gone.

"Y/N… he'll come back once he cools off. Let's get moving on this while he's gone. Call Cas again." Sam stood behind you, the voice of reason always. You spun around and glared at him.

"No Sam, I'm sorry. I have to get your brother. I can't… I can't let this end like this." You said, quickly ascending the stairs, taking the steps two by two.

"He's not gonna let you catch him."

You stopped at the top and hung over the balcony to send your words down to Sam below, "I have to try."

Sam was right, obviously; Dean was long gone. You stood outside the bunker mentally kicking yourself for letting Dean run away. The midmorning breeze was cool; it washed over your face, blowing your hair back, lifting it off of your neck. You shivered and hugged your chest, looking up and down the road for any sign of Dean. You saw nothing so you picked a direction and started walking.

You went over everything as you walked, every moment of this insane fantasy you were living; from that night at your apartment when you first laid eyes on the Winchesters, to now where you found yourself stalking through the freezing woods looking for a hunter who didn't want to be found. Emotionally exhausted you let your feet take you wherever they wanted and you soon realized they had led you back to the clearing from last night. You sat down on a fallen tree trunk and stared down at your boots. You had to get to Dean. You had to make peace with him and get him to let you go. You couldn't leave without that being done. You gathered yourself together mentally and took a deep breath, ready to resume your prayer.

There was a sound behind you: the sharp snap of a twig under someone's foot and your heart leapt, "Castiel?" You stood up and spun around, coming face to face with Crowley, his thin lips curled into a nasty smile as he looked you over.

"Guess again," he said with a wink.

"What the fuck do you want?" You sneered at him, eyes narrow and chin high, trying to show that you weren't afraid of him.

"Is that anyway to greet a friend?" He asked, taking a small step forward towards you.

You grit your teeth, "Friend? I don't see any friends here…" You said, gesturing broadly around you, trying to keep your attitude up even as you felt like running away.

"Exactly. That's what I was hoping for." He smiled and you cringed, backing away slowly; all your courage fading away as you heard the threat in his voice.

"What do you want Crowley!" You yelled again, hoping to attract the attention of the boys, but you knew it was useless; Sam was too far away and locked down inside the bunker. And who knows where the fuck Dean had gone. You were on your own.

"I just want to help you Y/N," He said, taking another step towards you.

"Help me what?" You spat, baring your teeth, trying to keep yourself calm, but your heart was pounding too hard, too fast.

"Help you let go."

You swallowed hard; your blood was pumping in your ears and you backed up, trying to put space between you and the King of Hell. You took a big step behind you and hit something hard yet yielding; you spun around to see a mountain of a man towering over you. He looked down at you and his blue eyes flashed to black; you screamed and jerked away as his hands grabbed for you. He caught your sleeve and you pulled away, using all of your strength and what was left of your courage to leap backwards out of his grasp and take off.

You ran not knowing which way you should go, the trees all started to look the same; the path back to the Bunker was lost to you, so you just ran. You could hear Stunt Demon Number One's lumbering footfalls as he chased after you. Not far in the background you could hear Crowley calling out to you, almost singing your name as he taunted you.

Your lungs were burning and your legs were growing heavy, slowing you down. You kept going, running on and on, pushing branches out of your way, kicking rocks and plants as you crashed through the forest.

"Y/N! Why are you running? You said yourself it was time to go… Let me help you!" Crowley sounded closer this time; you turned to look around for him, but you saw nothing. There was a quick moment of relief and hope and you smiled, thinking maybe you could get away. You turned back around and tripped on a log, sending you flying forward, your hands splayed out in front of you to brace your fall, but you landed too fast, your head slamming into a large gray rock. You felt the blood collecting on your forehead and you pushed back up off the ground trying to stand but your head swam and your vision blurred. You fell back down, turning onto your back in the tall grass. You looked up and saw the perfect blue Kansas sky between the treetops; sunlight leaking down through the leaves in beams of gold. You heard Crowley's voice moving ever closer and you held your breath, praying that you were hidden beneath enough brush to fool him. A warm tingling sensation was traveling across your scalp; spreading like fingers through your head and down your neck. You tried to sit up, but your head was spinning, the forest dancing around you as the edges of your vision faded to white.

"Y/N my darling, don't you know you can't run away from me?" Crowley knelt down next to you and smirked. You wanted to throw your fists at him, to kick him, to hurt him and run away but your body wouldn't respond. You tried to scream for Dean, but you couldn't make a sound. The pain in your head was consuming you and the last thing you felt was Crowley's hand on your cheek as he whispered in your ear, "I will always catch you."

* * *

Waking up from unconsciousness is never pleasant. There is usually a fair amount of pain happening somewhere on your body that is pulling you back into your mind; causing you to wake. When you do there's a moment of confusion, it takes a few seconds for everything to turn back on and for you to realize you were out; then time has to catch up and that takes another moment. Outwardly you blink a few times, maybe inhale deeply; it's rather quick. Inside your brain is being ripped out of the void and shoved back to reality.

Your head was aching badly; you knew that you were still bleeding because you could feel the thick wetness slowly sliding down your temple. Slowly you opened your eyes and cringed at the bright light around you; you were sitting up in a hard chair, your hands bound tightly behind you. You twisted your wrists to test the rope but could not move them. You pulled your head up from your chest and looking around you were surprised to see that you were in a nice room, not a dungeon or abandoned building. It was dark, but you could see a large desk and shelves full of books leading you to believe you were in an office or study. You looked around taking stock of the room, trying to think like a hunter and looking for weapons or anything to help you escape. There was nothing that you could see. What would Dean do? With no weapons or chance to wiggle out of his tethers Dean would try to talk his way out. Failing that, he'd just sit back and wait for Sam to show up and save the day. Considering you were scared out of your mind, injured, and inexperienced in such situations, that seemed like the best plan: wait to be saved.

The door behind you opened and you heard your captor saunter in. Crowley flicked a switch on the wall and several lamps came to life, sending eerie yellow pockets of light around the room. You watched as the King walked around and leaned against the desk in front of you. He crossed his ankles and leaned back, looking smug and perfectly evil.

You clenched your jaw and flexed your muscles, trying to look tough but you were shaking inside. This was the big boss show down you'd been expecting and you were not prepared at all.

"Nice place you got here," you said, filling your voice with as much fake arrogance as you could muster.

"Oh do you like it? I thought you might. It's not mine though, just borrowing it for a while. I couldn't bring you back to my place, the Winchesters know too well where that is. I'd love to bring you to my actual office if you'd care to come with me." He smiled, curling his lip on one side, "My office… in Hell."

"No thanks," your voice was quiet; your courage was draining. "What do you want with me? I thought you wanted to kill me."

"I do," he said simply, tapping a finger against his lip as he eyed you.

"So…what are you waiting for?"

"Don't act so brave darling, I know you're terrified. And that's what I'm waiting for. You have to let that go and stop being afraid." Crowley stood up and walked around you slowly. You followed him as far as your neck would turn; your heart pounding the whole time.

"That's kind of hard to do when there's an asshole demon keeping you tied up and a strange house." You spat.

Crowley continued his walk, circling you; his only goal to make you more nervous you were sure. "Please… mansion," he said, offended. "I wouldn't take you to some shitty house now would I? If anything you know I have impeccable taste."

"I know you're a fucking piece of shit…"

Crowley's hand came down across your face, slapping you hard. Your head jerked back and to the side; you felt his hand print burning on your skin from jaw to temple. You choked down a scream, determined not to give him the satisfaction. You slowly turned back to him, sneering but silent.

"That's better," he said. "You have quite the potty mouth Y/N. It's almost ridiculous."

"Fuck you."

"See what I mean?" Crowley hit you again, this time on the other cheek. The effect was the same and you reeled, your head snapping back and landing on your shoulder.

"Fuck. You!" You coughed out the words, the only think you could think of to say.

Again he struck you, this time sending your head backwards, the chair rocked and you thought for sure you'd fall over. Crowley caught you, leaning down and placing his cold hands on your legs to keep you from tipping over. You cringed at the feeling of his hands on you; you wanted to kick and scream and run but you were trapped, stuck here, having to take what he dealt until your heroes arrived.

"You don't get do you? You're only hurting yourself Y/N." He said quietly, his brown eyes boring into yours.

"Really? Cause it seems like you're doing the hitting here." You said in between deep breaths. Your face was on fire, your skin burning where his hands had made contact.

"You still don't understand. I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you." He stood up, gazing down at you now, looking calm and relaxed.

"By killing me?" You asked weakly.

"By showing you the truth." He said. Crowley walked around again, this time staying in your eye line; slowly pacing the edges of the room while he spoke. "This," he gestured around him, "is all fake. It's not real. You made it up. These books? They're empty. Beyond that door- nothing. It's all in your head."

You tried not to react; but it was hard. This is what you'd been slowly realizing for the past month. You shook your head. "So you're in my head too?"

"Yes Y/N."

"So this is a made up fantasy world inside my head, and I can do whatever I want?" You were getting angry; not wanting to hear this at all. You were so happy here, and now you felt the walls crumbling down around you.

"Exactly," Crowley replied. "You control this."

"So if I wanted to… throw you against that wall over there and break your neck, I could?"

"I'd rather you didn't, but yes."

You smiled, gathering up your courage and narrowed your eyes at the demon; willing him to go slamming back into the wall. You pushed with your mind, gritting your teeth. Crowley didn't move. Nothing changed, the only thing you accomplished was making your head hurt more.

Crowley laughed.

"Stop fucking with me please and just kill me. I'm too tired for your bullshit." You said, closing your eyes and dropping your head.

"You can't do anything because you won't let go." He laughed.

"You're not making any sense. Just tell me the truth! Why am I here? Why is this in my head! What's going on!" You shouted, pulling against your bindings again, making your wrists bleed. You just wanted answers, you wanted out. You wanted... Dean. Where was Dean? He would have gotten here by now on the show. Why wasn't he here? Didn't he know you needed him?

"You're dying Y/N." Crowley moved towards you, not maliciously but calmly, trying to get you to listen, to understand. "All this is just you trying to hold on, but it's time to let go. And once you do, once you admit it, understand it, you can go."

He was right; the car crash dreams, the hospital visions, your father's voice constantly calling your name; it had to be true. You lost it then, giving in to your tears yet again. You tried to hold them back but they flowed without permission, hot and slick down your face.

"Do you understand now?" Crowley was bent down, his face inches from yours.

You nodded yes. You understood. You believed him.

"Good girl." He stood and moved towards your back, ready to untie your hands. You heard the door behind you kick open; slamming against the wall with a loud crash. Sam and Dean burst in, guns raised, shouting at Crowley to back away from you. You were saved.

"Dean!" You yelled, trashing around in your chair trying to see him.

"It's OK Y/N, I'm here. We'll get you out of here." He said, moving slowly around your left side, keeping Crowley on your right; the gun aimed at his head.

"Oh come on Dean, she's fine. She's more than fine, she gets it finally."

"What are you talking about?" Dean looked down at you, "What is he talking about baby?"

You looked up sadly at Dean and felt your heart break; this was it. This was the end. It was time to let him go.

"Dean!" Sam yelled to his brother, calling his attention away from you and back to the Demon King.

"What are you gonna do, shoot me?" Crowley threw his hands up dramatically, laughing while he did.

"Yes I am you son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, moving in front of you, closer to his target.

"Well, it's been a blast, really Y/N, but I should be going. Hope I never see you again." He smiled and winked at you. Before you could blink he was gone, popping away and leaving a tiny breeze in his wake.

Dean dropped his gun and sighed. He knelt at your feet, looking up at you with pain in his green eyes. He touched your cheek, laying his hand over the welt from Crowley's abuse. "Are you OK Y/N? I'm so sorry I ran out. I should have stayed with you. It's my fault."

"Dean, stop." You said with a gentle smile. Of course he thought it was all his fault, this was Dean Winchester, Crowned Prince of Guilt.

Sam tucked his gun in his waistband and came towards you. He cut your hands free and patted your arm. "You alright?"

You looked over your shoulder at him, rubbing your freed wrists. "I am Sam, thanks."

Dean was still on the floor, staring at you with wordless questions, his eyes were wet and it pulled at your heart. How many times had you seen him cry? There seemed an endless supply of scenes you could think of, but each one was hard for you; you felt his pain each time, wishing you could break through the screen and comfort him.

"Please don't cry Dean." You put your hand on his face and leaned forward, kissing him gently. You pulled your lips back and smiled as you pressed your forehead against his.

"Hey, I thought people don't actually do that." He whispered with a tiny smile.

"I guess I was wrong." You kissed his forehead and stood up.

Your mind was finally clear; you looked down at Dean and then up at Sam. You smiled broadly and took a deep breath. This was it, it was time to finish the story. No more waiting; no more distractions; no more letting it play out. It was time to say goodbye.

* * *

 **To Be Concluded...**


	10. When You Say Goodbye

_**A/N: Chapter Warnings: A few curse words, a lot of tears, like, a lot.**_

 _ **Thank you all SO much for reading and liking and following and all your amazing reviews. You don't know how much they mean to me. You're all amazing and I thank you for pushing me to finish this. I'm so sad that it's over, but glad you joined me for the ride. ~ Much Love, Beka**_

* * *

Suddenly everything was so clear; you understood everything, every second of your time with the Winchesters made sense, you got all the hidden meanings, the clues all fell into place. A gentle peace came over you and felt truly fine for the first time in forever.

You stood still, calmly looking between the brothers. Dean had finally climbed to his feet, quiet tears still leaking from his green eyes. You held out your hands for each of them and they moved towards you. You took their hands and held them tightly, smiling sweetly at each of them in turn.

"What are we doing Y/N? Let's get out of here, let's go home," Dean begged. He raised your clasped hands and kissed your fingers.

"That's a great idea Dean," You said and closed your eyes, thinking about the Bunker. When you opened them again, you weren't surprised to see that you were home. You stood in the Library, still holding the boy's hands tightly.

Dean gasped and pulled away from you. "How the hell did you do that!" He cried.

Sam looked around, surprised but calm, he nodded as if he understood what had happened.

"It's OK Dean," Sam said, trying to soothe his brother.

"Are you a witch now or something? A god maybe?" Dean was bordering on frantic.

You laughed gently. "No Dean. I'm not a god. Not a witch. Not an anything," you said. "I'm just a girl." You reached out for him but he backed away.

"Then what the fuck?" He asked. He looked and sounded pitiful; it pulled at your heart but you remained calm, fighting back the gentle threat of tears that you could feel starting to appear.

"Well, this is all… in my head. You, Sam, Crowley, the Bunker, the Impala, the cases, everything. It's all been me, dreaming away."

Dean shook his head furiously, "That's not possible."

"It is Dean, think about it, it makes sense," Sam said.

Of course Sam got it instantly; he knew because you knew. Sam was your head; Sam was your logical voice this whole time. Dean would take more time because Dean was your heart, and maybe like Dean there was a tiny part of you that still wanted to believe different; believe you could stay here.

"How can I prove it to you? What do you want? A cheeseburger?" You closed your eyes again, this time adding a dramatic snap of your fingers. A white bag from Conner's Diner appeared on the table next to you. You could smell the warm bacony aroma from where you stood. Dean was not impressed. "No good? How 'bout…" You snapped your fingers again and a giant cherry pie appeared next to the burger bag. "Come on Dean, pick something. What will make you happy? I'll give you whatever your heart desires."

Dean bowed his head and looked up at you, biting his lip. "I want you," he said, "To stay here…with me."

The calm smile faded instantly from your lips, replaced with a trembling that you couldn't control. You looked to Sam for assistance, but he was as lost now as you were. So you did the only thing you could think of: you wrapped your arms around Dean's neck, pulling him down to you so that his head rested on your shoulder. You held tight when he tried to pull back. You kept him crushed against you; feeling his hot tears as they slid down your neck. You ran your hand through his hair, rubbing the short velvety locks and tried to calm him down.

"Dean…"

"I _need_ you to stay," he cried softly, his words fell gently against your skin, but cut you deeply none the less.

"I need to leave Dean. I think you know that."

His arms tightened around your back, silently arguing that you'd have to kill him before he let you go. You closed your eyes and wished away Sam and the bunker and everything else. When you opened your eyes you were back in that same clearing in the woods. Dean released you and looked around, a little less surprised this time to have been magically transported someplace else. You held his hand and stared up into his red rimmed eyes.

"How are you so calm?" He asked, shaking his head at you. "Why aren't you upset?"

"I am Dean," You ran your hand down his cheek, wiping away the tears that remained. "I'm just… ready." You didn't know what else to say, you'd said it so many times already.

"But ready for what? Where are you gonna go? You don't know!"

"No, I don't. But that's OK. It's just another adventure, right?" Your hand fell from his face and down his arm to take his hands again. You held them together in yours, running your thumb over his knuckles. He merely watched you, he didn't speak. "I needed this, I needed _you._ I was so scared, and you showed up, kicking down my door and you made everything OK. There was so many things I always wanted to do, and I got to do them with you! I hunted with you; I killed monsters! I helped solve a case. I read through ancient manuscripts with Sam; I hung out with Jody Mills! Crowley kidnapped me and I exorcised a demon…kinda. I drove the Impala… well, OK, that wasn't how I wanted that to go, but I still did it! And you… I got to touch you and kiss you and love you, and the most amazing part was that you loved me back." You laughed even as the water began to spill from your eyes. "To be able to talk to you and hold you and tell you everything you've meant to me; that's… that's been so amazing. You always asked me why I'm so obsessed with _Supernatural_ … it's because of you and Sam. You guys have been through so much. So much shit has fallen on your heads since you were babies and yet you get up, every day and you fight and you keep on going. You keep fighting no matter what. And if you can do that; if you can come back from Hell, if you can climb out of Purgatory and not lose your shit, why can't I? If Sam can stay so good and keep going despite everything that's happened to him, why can't I? You two are heroes, yes, but you're just human. You keep so many people going just by carrying on; and that's incredible. I don't think you even realize it, but it's true. Maybe I chose this dream world because I'm overly obsessed with your show, but I also needed you. I needed you to help me realize that it's alright and whatever's coming next, it'll be OK. I can do it. I can face whatever it is, and I'll be OK."

You stopped talking and fell back onto Dean, hugging him tighter than you ever had. He kissed your cheek, pulling you back a little bit so he could get to you. His beautiful full lips traveled across your face to yours and you let yourself have this one last thing. One last feel of Dean's lips on yours, one last desperate and passionate kiss. You held onto him, trying to memorize the feeling; the taste of him, the smell of his skin, and the sound of his breath against your face. You needed to take this with you; no matter what was coming next, this would come with you. Forever.

The sound of wings pulled you away from Dean. You could have held yourself against him for all eternity, but your time was up. He pressed his forehead against yours one final time and you both laughed.

You held his hand tightly as you turned to see the one person you'd been both terrified and excited to see: Castiel stood in the clearing a few feet away from you, his trench-coat flapping slightly in the breeze of his arrival. He was perfect; he looked exactly as you'd imagined him, right down to the perfectly fluffed hair.

"Hello Dean," said the angel. You couldn't help but get a little excited as your heard those words. "Hello Y/N," he said, turning his vibrant blue eyes to you as he said your name.

You smiled, "Hey Cas... I've been waiting to see you."

"I've been waiting for you as well," he replied. "Are you ready?"

You were shaking now, sad and scared but ready. "I just… one more minute?" You asked, taking in a shuddering breath.

"Take all the time you need Y/N."

You scrunched your eyes tight and called Sam to you. You felt his hand slip into your empty one and you opened your eyes, looking up into his sad hazel ones. "Hey Y/N," he said with a sad smile.

You turned and pulled him down into a giant hug. You squeezed him as tightly as you could and he laughed, his long hair falling against your neck. "Does it ever bother you?"

"What?"

"You both save the day and the girl only ever hugs one of you," you said as the tears poured from your eyes.

Sam rubbed your back and pushed away, "I never really thought about it I guess, but yeah, it is kind of annoying."

You reached up and touched his face. "Thank you Sam, for everything. I love you."

He leaned down and kissed your cheek. You grabbed him and gave him another big squeeze. "Love you too Y/N."

You took a deep breath and released the tall one, turning slowly back to his brother.

"This is it?" Dean asked. He was breathing just as heavily as you were; his cheeks stained with water just as yours were.

You nodded and smiled, inhaling deeply. "Yeah."

He grabbed your shoulders and wrapped his strong arms around you; his hand cradled your head as you sighed into his ear, "I love you Dean."

His voice was low and gravely, filled with his sadness and pain, so much like you'd always imagined that you almost smiled as he whispered, "I love you too Y/N. I'm never gonna stop loving you. No matter what."

Your heart swelled; great waves of love and sadness crashed over you, filling you to the brim with emotion. Dean Winchester was holding you and vowing to love you for the rest of his life. Dean. Fucking. Winchester…

The hardest part was letting go of him. You held on longer than you meant to; your hands clutching his jacket, his hand tangled in your hair. After what seemed like an eternity, you gathered all your strength and pushed him away with a final press of your lips against his.

You turned quickly away from Dean and ran to Castiel. He smiled gently and opened his arms to you. You went to him and he draped his arms around you. You relaxed against him, your tears falling away against the softness of his trench coat. You pulled back and looked into his shining eyes.

"May I…may I see your wings?" You asked shyly.

The angel smiled and flexed his shoulders, revealing his immense black wings to you. They were whole and perfect and unlike anything you'd ever seen before. Each feather glistened in the golden sunlight, standing out on its own, yet moving together as a whole.

"It's time Y/N," Castiel said and you lay your head against his shoulder. He held you tightly and you fell into the warm embrace; you closed your eyes as his wings folded around you, enveloping you, sending a safe, peaceful feeling through your soul.

Castiel kissed your forehead and closed his eyes. The forest around you glowed as his Grace flowed into your body and you smiled; ready for the next adventure, no matter what…

* * *

The End.


End file.
